


Marriage at First Sight: Figure Skater Edition

by aodaiki



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: British English, Fluff, Humour, M/M, Otabek is bad with kids, Reality TV, Romance, budding otayuri romance, jj is unstoppable, jjseung pair will be minor pairing, phichit is the best wingman, seunggil has enough, similar to arranged marriage, so domestic I wanna cry, sorry for the boring tags, sue me, tagging is hard, viktor has it hard, viktor spell with a k, we will see how it goes, will update more tags as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-09-08 08:49:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 33,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8838199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aodaiki/pseuds/aodaiki
Summary: “Phichit-kun, what should I do now. My career is over. My life is over. Everything is over. Is NASA still recruiting people to live in Mars? I think Mars would be good. Mars is hot right? Water can’t be frozen there right? There will no ice on Mars right? Good, good. I don’t think I can stand to see ice anymore.” “Yuuri, I think you are confusing Mars with Mercury,” Phichit supplied helpfully as he inched the ice bucket off the table carefully.





	1. The Meeting

Yuuri was in a daze. The people around him were in a frenzy. There were two guys tugging and styling his hair. He didn’t know his hair required two professionals to deal with. As annoyed as he was, there was nothing he could do.

 

He could hardly twitch a facial muscle as a lady was furiously caking foundation on his face. He wanted to rub his face, but he can’t. Both his hands were pinned to his sides as his clothes coordinator tugged and pulled his suit to ensure his attire fitted well. He gave a frustrated sigh mentally.

 

It was horrible. The show will end horribly. His supposed partner will take one look at him and walk out of the altar. They would rather pay the penalty for breach of contract than to play pretend with him. He could picture what would be happening for the next hour. He just knew. The media would start to publish his failure of him being a partner, how he can’t even maintain a relationship for a minute, and the masses will agree. And there is nothing Yuuri could do because they are right. Nobody in their sane mind would want to spend the rest of their life with Yuuri, play pretend or not. Nobody would want a boring, underachieved, overweight male, whose sole redeeming quality is that he gets to inherit his family’s onsen, as a partner. No one except Viktor Nikiforov…?!

 

It was as if he was dissociated from his body. He saw his body walking down the altar towards Viktor Nikiforov. (For a moment of clarity, he pondered how he got to the church. He remembered being at the changing room just a second ago.) No matter how cottony his brain was, or how blur his vision was, there was no way he could not recognize that guy. Viktor Nikiforov, 5 times Grand Prix gold medalist consecutively. Viktor Nikiforov, every ice skater’s idol. Viktor Nikiforov, Yuuri’s crush since he was thirteen. There is nobody with that lithe body and a head of beautiful silver locks than Viktor Nikiforov. Yuuri is willing to vouch on his onsen (remember, his sole redeeming quality?) that that guy is Viktor Nikiforov.

 

His body still continued to walk down the path as Yuuri continued to observed dissociatively with sick fascination. It was as if he was observing a train crash. It was going to turn out horribly, but for reasons untold, he just could not turn his eyes away. He saw Viktor leaning forward to grab his hands, but he could not feel anything. He knew the priest has started the ceremony but he could hear nothing. It was a dream right? It must be. It _has_ to be. Because there is no way Viktor Nikiforov just said _I do_ after realizing that he was going to be spend the next six months of his life with his huge failure. No effing way!

 

“Yes way, Yuuri. Now please say ‘I do’ too.” A gentle voice, with the unmistakable Russian accent, broke through his thoughts.

 

“What?” Yuuri whispered. A small part of his brain was glad that at least his vocal chords were his to command still.

 

“The priest is waiting for your affirmation, Yuuri. ‘I do’”

 

Yuuri echoed after Viktor subconsciously as startling blue irises looked right into Yuuri’s own muddy brown ones.

 

“I now declare Viktor Nikiforov and Katsuki Yuuri husband and husband.”

 

Warm lips landed on his cheek as he registered muffled cheers from around them.

 

What just happened?

 

~~~

_Three months ago._

 

“Phichit-kun.”

 

“Yuuri.”

 

“Phichit-kun.”

 

“Yuuri.”

 

“Phichit-kun, why are you even drinking. Did you flub every jump during the Grand Prix finals? Did you rank last for Grand Prix? Did you approach your idol only to smile at you and asked “A commemorative photo?”?”

 

“Yuuri, I did not even get to qualify for the Grand Prix.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“No, Yuuri, no! I’m not offended! I’m not sad! I’m totally okay without participating in the Grand Prix! I’m happy! I’m happy! Yuuri! NO! DON’T CRY!” Phichit panicked as tears started to well in his roommate’s eyes. Yuuri does not cry easily. But when he cries, he sobs. For hours. And Phichit absolutely does not want to go through another Yuuri’s crying episodes. Yuuri blew through three boxes of facial tissues and six rolls of toilet paper. Toilet paper ain’t cheap! Yuuri was always an emotional mess when he was midway to getting trashed.

 

  

 

Silence befell the room again as Yuuri quietly nursed his beer.

 

“Phichit-kun.”

 

“Hmm?” Phichit hummed non-committedly as he scrolled through Instagram.

 

“What do retired figure skaters become?”

 

“Coaches.”

 

“No one would want to employ a medal-less skater.”

 

“Reality stars,” Phichit breathed out as he saw Viktor Nikiforov’s post.

 

**_v-nikiforov_ **

**_Just signed my contract for the newest season of Marriage at First Sight! I can’t wait to find out who is going to be my partner!_ ** **_❤❤❤_ **

**_#excited #whoisgoingtobemypartner_ **

 

“Yuuri, I think I know just the right thing you should do now.”

 

 

 

 

In a flurry of meeting new people, shaking hands and signing on contracts upon contracts, Yuuri was set.

 

“Yuuri, pass me your phone. We have to Instagram this so that your fans will know!” Phichit bounced excitedly.

 

“I don’t have fans, Phichit-kun,” Yuuri argued but slid his phone over nonetheless.

 

Phichit remained silent as his fingers flew over the virtual keyboard. Doesn’t have fans, his ass. Yuuri had at least five-digit followers following his Instagram account.

 

“There, posted,” Phichit announced like a proud mama announcing the birth of her new son.

 

**_katsukiyuuri_ **

**_Stay tuned to Marriage at First Sight!_ **

**_#debut #itishappening_ **

 

“Phichit, what did you sign me up for?”

 

 

 

Viktor reclined comfortably on his couch. Makkachin slotted his fluffy self comfortably between his legs, resting his head on his owner’s abs. He patted his dog absentmindedly as he browsed through Instagram. His phone had been vibrating non-stop and the name _Yakov the devil_ flashed continuously at the top of the screen.

 

His coach had been trying to get to him ever since Viktor casually told him that he wanted to rest for a season and tried something new. He hadn’t returned to the rink since then, trying to avoid his demonic coach at all costs.

 

Yakov would give in with time, Viktor chuckled. Just like how Yakov always surrender to Viktor throughout the years. Viktor made a mental note to get a great gift for Yakov to make amends. Probably get a Vodka tap installed at the old man's place so he will have a continuous supply of Vodka. Ignoring what must be the fifteenth call from Yakov that day, Viktor continued to look through Instagram until he landed onto Yuuri’s post.

 

Viktor jolted. Ignoring Makkachin’s whines at being accidentally kneed into, Viktor hurriedly dialed a number as he jumped over the coach. He was a man on a mission, and would not stop till mission accomplished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anybody knows Yuuri's insta username? I can't seem to find. 
> 
> The fiction will take place in New York. I have zero knowledge of New York so I'll be taking very liberal creative license here. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


	2. The Move

“Yuuri, you shall have the honour of setting the passcode to our house,” Viktor sang as he presented the sleek number lock attached to the main door.

 

“It’s fine. You can pick the combination,” Yuuri mumbled.

 

“But Yuuri!”

 

Yuuri spared a glance at his glamourous ~~husband~~ man beside him before averting his eyes away. It has been a day since the ceremony but Yuuri still could not bear to look at Viktor straight in the eye. Nevermind that Viktor was his idol, Yuuri’s shy and introverted personality made it hard for the man to be around with strangers. Despite knowing and crushing hard on the accomplished skater, Yuuri does not know Viktor personally.

 

“I’ve no free hands,” he mumbled and heaved the two heavy duffel bags on each hand. The bags were not that heavy but he hoped Viktor had taken the hint. To Viktor’s credit, he did.

 

“That’s a lot of luggage,” he commented lightly.

 

Yuuri would have rubbed his neck in discomfort if only he had hands to. He settled by chuckling sheepishly and tilted his head to look behind. Aside from the two large duffel bags beside him, there were two huge trolley luggages and three cardboard boxes. Viktor only had a small carry on with him.

 

“Heh. I just graduated and had to move out from the university’s dormitory. But don’t worry! I’ll send most of them back to Japan as soon as possible!”

 

Viktor laughed and send a smile so warm and bright that Yuuri almost melted into a pile of goo there and then.

 

“Hey, no worries! I’m sure the house the production team sourced for us would be large enough for us to store all our stuff. And I shall not hinder you from moving your stuff in anymore,” Viktor soothed and quickly set the passcode.

 

“9-8-7-4?” Yuuri murmured each number as Viktor punched the digits.

 

“Yep, 9-8-7-4 for Y-U-R-I.”

 

There was no need a mirror for Yuuri to know that he was blushing hard. His face was practically radiating heat.

 

“Cute,” Viktor mumbled under his breath as he swung the main door open.

 

Yuuri cocked his head, “Did you say something?”

 

“Oh, I said look!”

 

Yuuri let out a breath at the sight before him. The entire living area was arranged with an open kitchen, making the room bright and spacious. Because it was nearing the festive season, there was a small little pine tree at the corner of the room, draped full of ornaments and bells. But it was not the size of the living room, neither was the state of the art technology pieces that decorated one side of the wall that caught Yuuri's attention. It was the ceiling to floor window that spans almost half of the living area that stole his breath away.

 

He was born and raised in Hatsetsu, Kyushu. His family’s onsen was located at the outskirts of the city. Hence, he was hardly exposed to the paranoma of city sights. Even when he went to Detroit to train, everyday was spent shuffling between classes, his dormitory and the ice rink.

 

However, here he was here. Standing in a penthouse that would probably cost him three lives to earn, with an unhindered view of Manhattan’s city night life.

 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it,” Viktor murmured behind him. The beauty of the city view left Yuuri unfazed at the sudden close proximity of the other man. He could only nod his head. The two resumed study the twinkling city lights below them, back to chest in comfortable silence.  

 

“Come on, we still have to move your boxes in. They are still outside,” Viktor laughed as he slowly herded Yuuri out. It was then when Yuuri finally registered the rest of the room.

 

“Viktor?”

 

“Yes, Yuuri?” Viktor cooed.

 

“What are these boxes?” Yuuri pointed to at least 10 boxes, with the large _Amazon_ emblazoned across, stacked behind the couch.

 

“Oh, they are just a portion of my stuff. More will be here tomorrow,” Viktor answered nonchalantly.

 

“And you still dared to say I have a lot of baggage?” Yuuri ridiculous tone paralleled his eyebrows that rose above.

 

Viktor simply gave him an award-winning smile and urged Yuuri by the small of his back.

 

When Viktor and Yuuri was down to the last of Yuuri’s boxes, the lift opened and revealed two men.

 

“Oh, are you the other couple for the show?” Viktor asked excitedly.

 

Yuuri lifted his head to see a beautiful man with the most expressionless face. He was tucked underneath an arm of a very flamboyant man.

 

“Yes, that’s us!” The slightly obnoxious man enthused, jostling the man beside him. His partner shot him a deadly glare at the unwanted movement.

 

“I’m Jean-Jacques, but call me JJ,” he introduced himself, while striking his infamous JJ pose. He maintained his outrageous pose as he waited for Yuuri and Viktor to react. His eyebrows twitched when there weren’t the usual cheers and awed gasps. He stiffly lowered his arms to see his partner bowing and shaking hands with Viktor and Yuuri.

 

“Hi, I’m Lee Seunggil, please to meet you,” the Korean man greeted as he exchanged greetings.

 

“Hi, Seunggil, I’m Viktor and this is my husband, Yuuri!” Viktor flourished.

 

Yuuri could only stammer a “please treat me favourably” as he got dizzy over Viktor’s introduction. _My husband. My husband. My husband._

 

“Songgee!” JJ whined.  He was rewarded with a ferocious glare for butchering his name. Without words, Seunggil stalked to their given apartment, which was just across Yuuri and Viktor’s. He punched in a combination with vengeance, and slammed the door loudly.

 

“Umm… My partner’s a lil shy around strangers. It’s err… A Korean thing,” JJ fibbed as he scratched his cheeks in embarrassment.

 

“Sure,” Viktor smiled, hoping to abate the tensed atmosphere.

 

“See you around,” JJ smiled confidently and went to his door.

 

The Canadian turned to his door suavely and fiddled with the lock. Three consecutive toots told Yuuri and Viktor that JJ keyed in the wrong password. JJ tried another two times, with the same three toots seemingly laughing at him.

 

Yuuri and Viktor quietly moved the last boxes into their apartment, hoping that the flashy man would not follow them and intrude.

 

“Maybe spending some effort in trying to say your partner’s name right would help,” Viktor could not help but advised as he popped his head from behind his door once Yuuri’s belongings were safely in the house.

 

“Where’s the fun then!” JJ crooned, the twinkling of his eyes telling a whole lot more.

 

Viktor shrugged and shut the door quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my head canon that JJ would purposely pronounce Seunggil's name wrongly just to rile him up.
> 
> Thanks for the overwhelming love that y'all showered me. 
> 
> I am a kudos and comments whore. They really do something to my ego. LOL.


	3. The First Night

“He’s something.”

 

Viktor sent a confused look at Yuuri.

 

“JJ, silver medalist for the Grand Prix.”

 

Viktor deflated a little, before puffing out his chest. “And you are now looking at five-time champion of the Grand Prix.” With his chin up, Viktor’s body language was screaming _look at me, I’m the one with the gold, why are you paying attention to silver._

 

“I know.”

 

“Oh?” Viktor’s knowing eyes glinted.

 

“I-I mean everybody knows who you are and your achievements,” Yuuri was quick to defend. Perhaps a tad too quick because Viktor’s eyes were still on him, gleaming.

 

“Well, that’s true. Come on, let’s explore the house!” Viktor spun gracefully on his toes and proceeded to venture deeper into the apartment.

 

Yuuri wiped at his brows. There was no way he was going to admit to Viktor that he had been idolizing (and maybe crushing) on him since he was thirteen. And neither was he going to admit that one out of the three boxes solely held all of Viktor’s posters and related merchandises.

 

 

 

 

The first room from the living area was a bedroom. _Their_ bedroom. When Yuuri saw the room, he dashed out and wrenched open the doors of the other two rooms. Both rooms were empty of beds. There was only one room with a bed. And it was a king-sized bed at that.

 

Viktor was crooning and crowing when he first saw the room. He started to pirouette around the room. In his socks. And despite the panic and anxiety that clawed down Yuuri’s throat, he cannot help but appreciate Viktor’s perfect body stance. He may not have been a _prima danseur_ but he had been learning ballet since he was five. Even though Minako looked like a genteel feminine lady on the outside, she was out for blood once she stepped onto her studio. It freaked young Yuuri out whenever Minako promises him the most gruesome torture she would inflict on him when he messed up his steps. It seemed cruel but Minako knew Yuuri well. He had the talent, but his anxiety always kept him back. (And she may have a small sadistic streak to have Yuuri on his toes every time he was around her, literally and metaphorically speaking.)

 

There was only one word to describe their bedroom: huge. It did not help that the room was sparsely decorated. It only contained a huge bed, placed right in the middle of the room, with two bedside tables. It was weird. For the living area was decorated so cozily, but the bedroom was reeking of cold and desolation.

 

“It’s… rather empty,” Yuuri spoke out, making a valiant attempt to avoid mentioning that the house is missing another bed in another room.

 

“I requested that to the production team. I thought it would be more comfortable for us if our room were to be decorated by ourselves. Feels more like home than a model house, right?”

 

Yuuri was touched. That Viktor was actually putting in effort to make them both comfortable. That Viktor wanted to be in a relationship with him. That Viktor had not yet bolted out of the door.

 

“I-I didn’t think of that. Sorry,” Yuuri admitted. The soft look Viktor gave him warmed him right through the toes.

 

Yuuri clenched his fist. Viktor had showed him his sincerity and it was only right of Yuuri to treat this seriously as well.

 

“This is my first time doing this, so please treat me favourably!” Yuuri bowed deeply to Viktor. On hindsight, Yuuri should have done this else where. Admitting that it was his first time (being on a reality show, what else. I know what are y’all thinking) in the bedroom might not be the most sophisticated course of action. However, the mood had felt right and it propelled Yuuri to do so.

 

Viktor hooked his arm over’s Yuuri neck. The action felt so right. Yuuri fit just nice in his arms, causing Viktor to tighten his hold. _God, I’m like an infatuated teenager,_ he moaned mentally as he could feel a tell-tale blush spreading across his cheeks. Yuuri smelt so good and Viktor knew he needed to stop his train of thoughts before he creeped himself out.

 

“I’ve heard from the production team that they have installed over fifty cameras all over the house to capture our moments together. They didn’t want to have the cameramen running all around the house, think they might ruin the atmosphere or like.” Viktor whispered conspiratorially.

 

“What?” Yuuri looked up so quickly he almost hit Viktor on the chin.

 

“Yeah, do you see that small orb that’s attached to that bedside table? That’s one of the cameras.”

 

Yuuri stared hard. He snatched himself away from Viktor and ran into the living room. Now that Viktor had pointed out, the entire house was filled with the same black orbs. Yuuri even spotted two hanging from the Christmas tree.

 

“Is this going to be every where?”

 

“Yup.” Viktor followed Yuuri back to the living room to see him having a minor meltdown. It was adorable. Everything about Yuuri was adorable, Viktor thought.

 

“Even our room?”

 

“Even our room.”

 

“Even the toilet?”

 

“Even the toilet.”

 

“Fuck.”

 

“And that will be going on broadcast.” Viktor piped.

 

“ _Fuck!_ ” Yuuri slapped both hands onto his wayward mouth. There was already a sheen of tears in his eyes.

 

With that, Viktor collapsed on the floor, laughing hard. He curled his body in and held his aching side.

 

“Yuuri,” he managed between laughs, “there will be an editing team to make sure that nothing bad will be broadcasted. We are athletes. We are supposed to portray a healthy sporty image.”

 

Yuuri pouted as Viktor pointed it out to him. Still feeling vindictive, he stalked over to the wheezing man and prodded his back with his feet.

 

“Stop, I’m embarrassed as it is.” Viktor allowed Yuuri to kick him a few more times before he turned over and grabbed the offending ankle. He gave it a hard tug and Yuuri came tumbling down. Yuuri whined at the sudden fall although he could feel Viktor’s hand round his head lest he hit it. A fight befits of five year olds ensued as both of them tugged and pulled at each other. It was honestly more play than fight. Yuuri was shrieking and writhing in laughter when Viktor started tickling him.

 

“Oh ho, somebody is ticklish!” Viktor doubled his efforts, jabbing at the sides of the almost sobbing man.

 

“Viktoooor. Stop.” Yuuri breathless moans had Viktor removing his hands as if he was scalded. The Japanese man was akin a piece of art. Sprawled on the floor, his hair was spread around as if a halo and a peachy flush coloured his face. His chest continued to heave as he took in gulps of air.

 

“Okay, that’s enough. I’m going to start making our room more liveable while you store your stuff away? You can take either of the two room, I’m fine with any.”

 

Viktor patted Yuuri’s thighs lightly and stood up. The Russian picked up three boxes labelled _Lights_ and Yuuri wondered what Viktor was going to do with that many lights. He rolled over until he saw his boxes and sneered at the amount of luggage he had to settle. The house heater was working wondrously well and the warmth had lulled him into a daze.

 

 _Five minutes_ , Yuuri thought to himself before he succumbed to a light nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everytime I typed Yuuri, I can hear Viktor's voice crooning it at the back of my head. Yuuuriiiii.
> 
> I know this is reality tv, but no. There will be no visible cameramen hanging around. Coz I'm not sophisticated enough to write about them. Can you imagine? 'Cameramen X slowly zoomed in to focus on the softness of Viktor's expression as he gazed at Yuuri.' Nope, not doing that. 
> 
> NOBODY GETS TO MENTION EP 11. THERE WAS NO EP 11.


	4. The Morning After

Yuuri stretched like a contented cat. It was one of the better sleeps he had ever since he grilled Phichit into confessing what he had made Yuuri do.

 

_“Phichit, so what did you sign me up for?” Yuuri smiled pleasantly once they were back to their dorm._

_“Hmm? Smile!” Phichit said as he took a selfie with Yuuri._

_“I guess, there’s nothing to worry since I’m sure my best friend would not sign me up for some reality tv, knowing that I’m useless in front of camera. And my best friend definitely would not ruin me. And Viktor Nikiforov definitely isn’t in the same show that my best friend set me up for.”_

_Phichit hummed noncommittally as he took even more selfies. The afternoon light streaming from the window highlighted his honey-brown skin and his equally caramel eyes and he was not giving up the godsend opportunity. Until he saw Yuuri grabbing one of his precious hamsters by its scruff._

_“Yuuri, everything can be discussed! Nothing has been set into stone yet. There is no need to harm an innocent life for it. Easy,” Phichit advised. One hand was up in a placating manner while the other was shaped into a hand pistol. His phone was forgotten in the midst of the blanket for once._

_The Japanese man rolled his eyes at the sudden theatrics thrown at him. Phichit should change his major to theatrical studies._

_“No. I’m the one with the bargaining power not you.” He lifted the hamster higher to prove his point. Phichit made a noise of anguish._

_“Yuuri, stop being in denial. There is no point sacrificing Peter. Look, Harry is already upset.” Phichit pointed to another hamster that was sniffing around Yuuri’s knees. How Phichit interpreted that as an upset action bewildered him to no ends._

_“More the merrier.” Yuuri picked up Harry with his free hand._

_“Yuuri, no!”_

 

Yuuri chuckled softly when he remembered how desperate Phichit was. He sat up slowly and realized something was off. The sunlight casted playful shadows on the soft grey sheets that covered him. Yuuri patted around blindly for his glasses and slid them on. A quick look told him that he was in their bedroom. _What,_ his brain supplied helpfully.

 

He remembered dozing off in the living room. _Did he sleepwalk into the room,_ Yuuri questioned himself. Phichit had never mentioned about his sleepwalking habits if he had any.

 

Viktor had outdone himself. He had fitted the bed with the softest sheets in the most soothing shade of grey. Yuuri ran his fingers across the duvet cover and sighed. It must be some one thousand thread count Egyptian cotton bedsheets. He giggled a little when he remembered Viktor saying he wanted the room to have a home feel. Most probably _his_ Russian apartment if the decorations were to go by. Matryoshka dolls lined the bedside table at the other end of the bed and Yuuri can see the edges of what must be a very fluffy white rug at the end of the bed. It was simple but he just could feel the Russian-ness from the room. He looked over to his own bedside table to see a white onigiri shaped plushy. At least Viktor was sweet enough to get him something. It was then when Yuuri saw eight lamplights situated round the head of the bed. All of them were twisted to face him. He will need to have a talk with Viktor regarding the lamplights placement but the toilet was his first priority.

 

The toilet had a cream marble theme. But Yuuri hardly had the time to admire as he relieved himself. He heaved a quiet, pleased sigh as he unloaded his bladder.

 

“Yuuri, do you want to join me in the hot tub?”

 

“What?” Yuuri whipped his head so quickly that he almost lost momentum. A little urine went off the toilet bowl but Yuuri couldn’t care less.

 

Viktor was standing right in front of him in the hot tub, with a hand extended towards him. Without a single thread on him. Yuuri tried very hard to maintain eye contact. But he was a lesser man as he greedily took in the view before him. The large broad shoulders that lead to well-defined pectorals and abdominals muscle, which gave way to a slim waist and a thatch of neatly-trimmed silver-

 

Yuuri had to utilise every single cell in his body to snatch his eyes away from the sex god’s lower half. The smirk on Viktor’s face told Yuuri that he knew that he was being checked out.

 

“V-Viktor!”

 

“My little piggy is finally awake from his beauty sleep. I was so disappointed to find you asleep on the floor last night, you know. Our first night together, just like that.” Viktor snapped his fingers. “But at least I got to carry you to bed.”

 

Yuuri was a blushing, quivering mess. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to speak, but his brain was still stuck on to the lines and curves that implied the quiet strength Viktor had. He made a noise of desperation and ran out of the toilet, pants still hanging onto his thighs.

 

 

 

 

“Yuuri, there isn’t any food,” Viktor mused. He went into the kitchen after getting out of the bathroom to find Yuuri opening and closing the refrigerator and cabinets in the kitchen. Yuuri turned to him, mouth forming a half pout before he screeched. The devious minx only had a white towel hung low at his hips while he rubbed at his dripping locks with another.

 

Viktor gave a sharp bark and went into the room. “Give me five minutes to dress and we will go out to grab some groceries.”

 

 _That was on purpose,_ Yuuri seethed.

 

 

 

 

The apartment across Viktor and Yuuri’s was much quieter. Seunggil was sitting alone on the bar counter at the edge of the kitchen. He was engaged in a rapid-fire discussion with his fellow Korean skaters on Kakao chat while his less dominant hand was spooning rice into his mouth messily.

 

“Morning,” JJ greeted sleepily and gave a yawn. How the Canadian managed to sleep only in his boxers baffled Seunggil greatly. Even though there was heating in the room, it was still winter outside. He felt so overdressed in an oversized black jumper and equally black tights. JJ poured himself a cup of coffee and silently nursed the black liquid. _Ah, another non-functioning till coffee human,_ he observed.

 

“Songgee,” JJ called out he downed half of his coffee. “Are you having rice for breakfast?”

 

Seunggil dropped his phone, not after locking it, on the table and circled his breakfast protectively.

 

“That’s…. so Asian,” JJ breathed out in, was that amazement Seunggil heard?

 

“Well, at least one of us have to live up to their stereotypes. Since Canadians are supposed to be nice and polite, and you are everything not.”

 

“I am nice!” JJ truly looked offended. Seunggil felt a little bad. Just a wee bit little.

 

“Anyway, can I try? Your rice?” JJ prompted when Seunggil frowned in confusion.

 

“Do you take chilli?”

 

“Of course. I have you know that I require six packets of chilli sauce whenever I have my quarter pounder.” JJ puffed his chest in confidence. Seunggil could not hide his snort. He prayed JJ would not make fun of that ugly noise but the man looked bewildered.

 

“You smiled!”

 

 _Was he that bad?_ Seunggil mused. He knew he was not an expressive person, but he did feel emotions like a normal human being.

 

“Come on, let me try!” JJ whined and nudged Seunggil’s side persistently. His hand crept towards the spoon only to have it smacked by a pale hand.

 

“Ouch.” JJ cradled his wounded hand against his chest and he looked so much like a hurt puppy that Seunggil almost patted his on his head. Almost. With a huge sigh, he scooped two spoonfuls of the kimchi stew he had at the side onto a portion of his rice before spooning the red-stained rice.

 

“Oh, spoonfeeding on the second day? How forward,” JJ crooned as he leaned onto the bar top.

 

“Do you want it or not.” JJ quickly stretched forward and wiped the spoon clean. He quietly observed JJ as the man munched thoughtfully.

 

“It’s sour,” JJ attempted with his mouth still full. “Surprisingly, it isn’t as spicy- Oh my god.” The end of the speech was garbled as JJ hopped around the kitchen, trying to abate the fire on his tongue.

 

“Song, song, help, oh my god.” Seunggil writhed in quiet laughter as JJ struggled with the spiciness. The fact that JJ mangled his name even further made him snort even louder. Finally taking pity on the man in tears, he slipped down from the high chair and poured JJ a cup of milk.

 

“Song, my chilli king, the dictator of the land of chilli, the ruler of all things spicy,” JJ moaned his gratitude as the milk slowly tamed the spiciness in his mouth. He laid on the floor, panting and groaning.

 

Seunggil decided that he liked this side of the man better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love the jjseung couple so much. I don't even know why.
> 
> And have y'all notice the insane amount of lampposts around Viktor's bed back at Hatsetsu. LOLOLOL.
> 
> Omg, 4 chapters in and I haven't even bring in yurio. I ramble too much.


	5. The First Meal

“You can cook?” Yuuri asked as they pushed a cart down the aisle at a supermarket just down the apartment.

 

“Yuuri!” Viktor flourished, one hand against his chest. It was as if a national offence to doubt his culinary skills.

 

Yuuri pulled a face at him and pushed the trolley forward without him. Two days with Viktor and Yuuri felt that he needed to rewrite the impression he had of Viktor for the past decade. Childish, tactile, with no sense of personal space, that was who Viktor was. Nothing of that grace and elegance he exuded when he was on the ice. 

 

Viktor hummed cheerily while he placed more food into the cart. A tray of twenty-four eggs which Yuuri silently switched to a pack of dozen. He had an inkling that Viktor was like a child. A child who cannot take no as an answer. Hence, putting away stuff that they do not need back to the shelves instead of confronting Viktor would make shopping much more peaceful. Like how Viktor upended an entire sack of potatoes in the cart, almost flattening the loaf of bread. Yuuri huffed as he threw the brown sack away and opted for five loose potatoes just beside.

 

“Yuuri –“ Viktor stopped mid-speech as he caught Yuuri swapping his choice of rice for a smaller sack. He looked down to the cart to find that none of his pick remained. Betrayal and despondence flashed loudly in his blue irises as he turned to look at Yuuri.

 

“Twenty kilograms of rice is too much for the two of us,” Yuuri tried to explain. Viktor crossed his arms.

 

“The supermarket is just an elevator away from our house. Fresh groceries are always better, right?” Yuuri stammered. _Please don’t get mad, please don’t get mad,_ he chanted mentally.

 

“You could have said so.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

Viktor hummed his acceptance and walked ahead. The light atmosphere around them turned sombre and Yuuri was wrought with nerves and guilt. He could have just told Viktor right at the start. But he didn’t and now he had ruined the day.

 

“Viktor, I’m really sorry.” He chased after the Russian with the cart. He silently perused the shelves of spices.

 

“Viktor, how can I make up to you? Oh, can we have the pepper please.” Viktor made no attempt to acknowledge Yuuri, but he did drop the small glass of grounded pepper into the trolley.

 

“Viktor.” Yuuri continued to pester the sulking man as they rounded off into the snacks aisle. He grabbed three packets of chips and threw it into the cart when Viktor stopped.

 

“Put it back.”

 

“What? It’s just three packets. They will be gone in half a day.”

 

“Don’t think I didn’t realise you put on weight since Grand Prix last year.” Yuuri gasped as he pulled his sweater down. He did indulge in binge eating for a couple of weeks after his blazing failure at the Grand Prix and having Phichit as a roommate did no favours for him. The Thai had amazing metabolism which Yuuri sadly was not blessed with.

 

Grunting, Yuuri stuffed one packet back to the shelves.

 

“You must have at least gained five kilograms, haven’t you.”

 

Another bag just shoved back to its place violently.

 

A silver eyebrow raised delicately at the remaining pack in the cart. “Do you have to?” Yuuri begged. He was desperate, alright. The eyebrow remained. Yuuri huffed and strands of his fringe flew. He discarded the pack, but not before sneaking a smaller pack into the cart.

 

“There’s barely ten chips inside!” He protested loudly as Viktor remained unmoved. “Viktor!”

 

In a moment of rage, he flung the small bag of chips at Viktor and stalked away, leaving the cart with Viktor.

 

“Come Yuuri, I think we can head to for the check out,” Viktor sped along beside him, all smiles and sunshine. _Oh great, Viktor is back to his ever smiling state because I can’t have my chips like how he can’t have his twenty kilograms of rice,_ Yuuri seethed.

 

“You immature, vindictive –“ A warm hand covered his mouth.

 

“Uh-uh, can’t have you running your image with that sailor mouth of yours,” Viktor tsked and dragged Yuuri to the counter, with his palm still connected to his lips.

 

Viktor only removed his hand when Yuuri licked the underside of it. “Fiesty, I like it,” Viktor commented as he subtlety wiped his palms on his jeans. The cashier robotically scanned their groceries, pretending that there was no couple flirting awkwardly in front of her.

 

“That will be $63.28, sir,” the cashier prompted when all their items were accounted for.

 

“Let me get this,” Viktor jabbed his card into the cashier’s hands before Yuuri even got the chance to get his wallet out. “You can get the next round,” he quickly added when he saw Yuuri about to retort. The Japanese acceded and picked up half of the bags. Viktor quickly got the rest of them and the two trotted towards the elevator back to their home.

 

“This is one of the rare moments I spend less than $100 whenever I go to supermarket.”

 

“I can guess so.”

 

“You would make a good husband.”

 

Yuuri would have flushed beautifully if he was still not hung over his lost chips.

 

 

 

 

“You said you could cook.” Yuuri looked pointedly at a pile of blackened French toast on the plate.

 

“It’s Russian toast.” The self-declared chef sniffed.

 

“It’s obviously French, Viktor. I saw you fry those right from the moment you took the bread out from its bag.”

 

“We Russians like our food a little burnt.”

 

“It’s black. Like my eyes.”

 

“Your eyes are the loveliest shade of brown I have ever encountered.”

 

“My eyes are not- Viktor, stop distracting me!” Viktor pouted.

 

“Have you tried katsudon before?” Yuuri asked as he pulled the sleeves of his sweater up.

 

“Katsudon?”

 

“Yeah. It’s Japanese. It’s like pork cutlet in egg over rice,” Yuuri explained.

 

“Sounds wondrous.”

 

“Yeah, it is. It’s my favourite.”

 

“I would love to try,” Viktor smiled. Yuuri had taken over the main place in the kitchen somehow and Viktor found himself standing away from where he was previously.

 

“You can throw those cancer-inducing toasts away. I lied when I said Russians like their food burnt,” Viktor offered when he saw Yuuri pausing at his failed creation.

 

“Thanks for telling me that. I was still debating if I should burn your food so that you can appreciate it better.”

 

“You didn’t!”

 

“I did.”

 

Viktor ran his hand under the running tap and fling water droplets onto Yuuri.

 

“Viktor!” he squealed. “Wash some rice and cook if you have to. Try not to burn them, I don’t have a fancy for burnt food.”

 

Viktor swore under his breath that he would make the tastiest rice Yuuri would ever eat. And worse come to worse, if the rice failed, he could always blame it on the rice cooker. Viktor had everything planned.

 

Yuuri was a much better cook than Viktor expected. He was quick and nimble and before he realised, two steaming bowls of katsudon was placed on the bar top. The kitchen remained spotless.

 

He settled opposite Yuuri and was about to inhale the rice when Yuuri muttered a quick word. “What was that?”

 

“Oh, it’s a saying before we eat.”

 

“Teach me.”

 

“I-ta-da-ki-ma-su,” Yuuri pronounced every syllable slow and clear.

 

“Eat-tha-dark-eat-mast!” With that, Viktor dug in heartily. If it was even possible, the Russian’s eyes and mouth turned into hearts as he looked at Yuuri as if he was a god.

 

“Vkusno! What have I been missing out all these years!”

 

“Phichit can only cook tomyum. So it’s up to me to pick up cooking, unless I want to tear my tongue off every meal,” Yuuri divulged as they ate.

 

“Phichit?”

 

“Ah, he didn’t manage to qualify for Grand Prix this year, so you may not know him. He’s Thai and he’s both my dorm mate and rink mate.”

 

“Ah, he must be nice guy.”

 

“No, he is a rotten guy who’s hell bent on making his best friend’s life a living hell. Knowing that I idolise you and manipulated me on to this show. No, I don’t have a best friend like him,” Yuuri huffed as he shovelled more rice into his mouth.

 

“You see me as an idol?” Viktor breathed out, part amazed, part exhilarated.

 

 _Abortabortabortabortabort._ But life was sadly not a game that can be paused or even restart right from the beginning. Yuuri briefly wondered if he could fit through the windows so that he can jump out and escape. He’d seriously rather die than to face Viktor. There was only one option for him – deny till his grave.

 

“What? You must have heard wrongly.” Yuuri muttered into his rice. He absolutely refused to look up. His poor heart cannot handle anymore stress.

 

“No, definitely not. ‘Knowing that I idolise you and manipulated you’, there,” Viktor quoted word for word. _Curse you, curse your hearing, curse your sharp brain, curse your everything,_ Yuuri stabbed into his rice like a woman scorned.

 

“You must be getting hard on hearing. Since you’re getting so old.”

 

“O-old?” Viktor stuttered. The sudden fragility in his voice had Yuuri looking up at him. The confident man in front of him was reduced into a withering mess.

 

“Viktor…?” Yuuri’s word was lost on him.

 

“I knew it. My hair’s getting all white –“

 

“That’s your original hair colour, Viktor.”

 

“And it has been thinning at such a rate that Yakov would have more hair than me by the end of the year –“

 

“That’s highly unlikely.”

 

“And I just found two extra wrinkles round my eyes this morning –“

 

“All the more charming. Viktor, you are not old.”

 

“Then what was that.”

 

“Trying to avoid.”

 

“Oh right –“ The doorbell cut off Viktor mid-speech.

 

The couple looked at each other, trying to ask each other if they had people over through the narrowing and widening of their eyes. Both of them shook their heads at the same time.

 

The doorbell rang non-stop before someone started yelling.

 

“Viktor, you fucking bastard. How dare you ask the Ice Tiger of Russia to be your gopher. You fucking piece of shit. Fucking open the door now or I’ll fucking burn down this entire apartment.”

 

“Umm. I think that’s for me.” Viktor scratched his cheek. He stood up but not before miming to Yuuri that he was not letting this off.

 

Yuuri turned his body away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the scratchy electric guitar BGM at the back of my mind when I was writing out Yurio's part. If only I can embed music here. LOLOL.
> 
> Yuuri is a bitch when denied of his chips. DO NOT deprive him of his comfort food.


	6. Yuri Appears

“The entire Russia must be fucking blind to call you their Ice Prince. I mean which part of you is princely. You wait, you old man. I am going to take –“

 

“Can we help you?”

 

Yuri Plisetsky whirled around to see two men peeking out of their door adorably, with just their heads out. The tanner Caucasian was perched above the paler Asian. It took everything Yuri had to not growl at them. He had recognised the Caucasian, of course. _J fucking J, of all people,_ Yuri snarled inwardly. They were competitors before JJ moved to the senior bracket. And judging how JJ was behaving, he must not have remembered him.

 

_Growing out that fucking bowl cut was the best fucking decision I have ever made._

 

“Are you perhaps Viktor and Yuuri’s secret son?” The face Yuri gave would have been listed within top ten of Yuri’s most entertaining expressions. Brows frowned so deeply that they were almost joined together and eyes that spoke of gory violence and death had Seunggil tapping JJ’s chin with the crown of his head.

 

“JJ, I don’t want to die. So please do us a favour and shut your mouth,” Seunggil whispered harshly.

 

“Whoa Songgee, you know ventriloquism?” Seunggil slammed his head harder against the unrepentant Canadian’s chin.

 

“Viktor, have you finally fucking died already?” Yuri ignored the weird couple and kicked Viktor’s door repeatedly.

 

“Yuri!” Viktor flourished when he opened the door. As if all the ruckus Yuri made had not happened. “Come in and get yourself warmed.”

 

“You bring in your own fucking luggage in.” With that, Yuri strutted into the apartment, as if it was his.

 

“Looking good,” Viktor tipped his head in acknowledgement to his neighbours acting like stacked up dolls. He looked at his mountain high of luggages. _This is gonna take me awhile_.

 

Yuuri was hiding his fear from the young growling Russian. It’s laughable that he, an adult, was afraid of a mere fifteen-year-old boy. Yuri surveyed the cosy apartment and gagged when he saw the mini Christmas tree.

 

“You!” Yuuri jumped at the harsh yell.

 

“How dare you fucking seduce the bird-brained Viktor with that piggy body of yours. If not for you, Viktor would not have fucking taken a year off and join this fucking reality TV,” Yuri jabbed in Yuuri’s direction. Yuuri was bewildered to even utter a word.

 

“Yuri,” Viktor huffed.

 

“Huh?” “What?”

 

“Oh, I mean Yurochka.”

 

“Or you can call him Yurio.” The trio turned to see their neighbours now attached to their door, peeking in.

 

“Is he your secret son?”

 

“JJ!” Seunggil’s head was now above JJ’s and he slapped both his palms into JJ’s face.

 

“Hmm,” Viktor crossed his arms and tapped his pointer finger against his lips. “If Yuratcha were our son, then I would be…. Twelve? And Yuuri would be… Eight! Wow!”

 

“I’d rather die than have you as my dad.”

 

“Really? 24/7 coach, award-winning choreographies on demand, sponsorships of your pick –“

 

“Daddy,” Yuri breathed.

 

“Good boy, now help Daddy move his luggage in.” Viktor patted Yuri’s head.

 

“No. It’s your own fucking luggage, you fucking bring them in by your own. How dare you order me to bring your stuff in from Russia!”

 

“I didn’t. I told Yakov to send it over,” Viktor shrugged. Yuri gaped, _what difference where there?”_

 

“He could have sent Georgi over,” Viktor clarified when Yuri’s glare did not relent.

 

“That weakling spends every day crying at the corner of rink. His bitch left him for some football dude.” Viktor winced. Georgie was a nice guy, but he gets way too invested in his relationships at times.

 

“Mila?”

 

“Don’t mention that old hag. She ran away with her boy toy for some two-day fuck fest.”

 

“Aww, then it’s not my fault that you were the freest out of the team.”

 

“IT IS! If you didn’t announce that you were taking a break and then ran to join some fucking reality TV, and made every other skater,” Yuri pointed at JJ and Seunggil, who rose twin eyebrows at him, “join in this hilarity, ISU would not have halted Grand Prix for this year. This year was supposed to be my senior debut!”

 

Yuuri’s face was already pale with every profanity that came out of the teen’s mouth. No teen should have a mouth that potty and Yuuri’s conservative nature was horrified at how everybody was at ease with the vulgarity-spewing boy. But at the boy’s admission, he felt bad for him.

 

“You are only fifteen,” Yuuri tried. “I didn’t do my senior debut until I was seventeen.”

 

“I debuted when I was sixteen,” JJ piped and Seunggil nodded his head in agreement.

 

“But you debuted when you were fifteen,” Yuri looked at Viktor.

 

“What can I say, I’m a genius.” Viktor flipped his fringe up, complete with a wink. Yuuri wanted to strangle the air-headed Russian there and then. They were trying so hard to placate Yuri and Viktor single-handedly ruined their efforts. A quick look to their empty door had Yuuri realised that JJ and Seunggil had escaped. _Those sly bastards_.

 

 

 

 

It took Viktor an hour to get all his belongings into the house and into the spare room. Yuuri did another bowl of Katsudon in the meantime. He had caught Yuri glancing at their half-finished food and concluded on his own. Asking Yuri would be useless as the spiteful teen would definitely say no, which defeated the entire purpose. He placed the steaming bowl on the bar top and slid into his seat.

 

“Victor, finish your food first,” he hollered. Viktor appeared in the doorway and wiped his sweat.

 

“Yuuri, our room will be perfect by tonight. Everything has arrived and I am so excited!”

 

Viktor sat down and took notice of a new bowl of rice beside his.

 

“Yurio, come on. Yuuri made food for you. It would be rude to refuse.”

 

“That’s not my name!” It did not take long to coddle the stubborn boy to settle down at the bar counter, for he was far too hungry than he realised.

 

“Vkusno, isn’t it?” Yuri narrowed his eyes but he did not slow down the speed of wolfing down the pork and rice.  

 

“When will Makkachin be sent over?” Viktor asked after Yuri licked down the bowl. Yuuri sat up in interest.

 

“Makkachin? I was told he was going to arrive this morning?”

 

“What?!” The chair slid back a couple of inches as Viktor stood up in surprise. “I’m going down to the guard office now.”

 

“I’ll follow,” Yuuri gushed. Yuri slumped on the chair and patted his tummy.

 

“I’m good here.” Neither of the adults had the heart to move him. The flight from Russia to America was taxing and Yuri must have felt drained. Quickly, they slipped on their shoes and opened the door, only to have a huge brown fluffy entity flew towards Viktor.

 

“Makkachin!”

 

“Woof!” A coffee coloured poodle licked enthusiastically at its equally enthusiastic owner. Despite hitting his head on the floor when Makkachin launched its ginormous body towards him, Viktor could hardly feel any pain as his dog lavished his with large wet licks.

 

“The pet services came this morning but you guys weren’t home. So I brought him in since I’ve got dog food and water. He only woke up now, that’s why I didn’t bring him out just now,” Seunggil explained.

 

“Thank you,” Yuuri thanked the Korean on behalf of Viktor who was still enamoured with his dog. Small sets of pitter patter was heard from Seunggil’s apartment and a large husky was suddenly sniffing at Yuuri’s feet.

 

“Taepoong!” The husky turned to look at Seunggil, before settling at the man’s side. Viktor was awed.

 

“He’s so obedient!”

 

“Yeah, your Makkachin is a little on his spoilt side. Can’t take no as an answer,” Seunggil chuckled. “But JJ seemed to have taken a liking to him. Probably because he’s as spoilt as Makkachin.”

 

“A spoilt Makkachin is the best Makkachin. Don’t you love to be spoilt by Daddy?” Viktor crooned as he held the poodle’s face between his palms. Makkachin answered in a series of bark.

 

“Songgee, where’s makka? I don’t see him in the house?” JJ called and came out of the apartment. “Makka, you don’t like daddy anymore?” He cried out in despair when he saw Makkachin rubbing his head against Viktor’s slacks.

 

“Daddy?” Yuuri tilted his head.

 

“He made himself Makkachin’s temporal owner. Don’t mind him,” Seunggil rolled his eyes.

 

“See, that’s why I said cats are better,” JJ sniffed. He childishly pulled a face at Makkachin when the dog turned and look at him.

 

“Did I hear cats”? Yuri tumbled out of the house at the mention of the felines.

 

Seunggil wordlessly gathered his husky in his arms and stood beside Viktor and Yuuri. JJ could not help but admire how Seunggil made carrying his husky such an easy task. Those thin arms and slim hips held onto the twenty-four-kilogram heavy dog without the slightest effort or huff of breath.

 

“Are we really doing this? The dog camp,” he gestured at the three men, “and the cat camp?” he pointed to himself.

 

Seunggil said nothing but shifted his dog higher up. Taepoong laid his head comfortably on his owner’s head.

 

“As compared to the clumsy figure of dogs, cats have a much more graceful silhouette. Their soft paw pads and those quivering whiskers, they are all God’s creation,” JJ listed.

 

“Dogs are always there to provide comfort. They never say no to cuddles. Unlikes cats, who only know who to snob at their owners,” Yuuri argued.

 

“Cats are elegance personified. They are the queen, everyone else are the slaves. That’s the rule of the universe,” Yuri stated as if it was a given. He stood in between JJ and Viktor, Yuuri, and Seunggil. It could not be more obvious that Yuri was in the cat camp, but his dislike towards the Canadian halted him from completely standing beside him.

 

“Is that so? Then you can continue your lovely cat theories with Yurio. I’m gonna spend the night with them,” Seunggil sniffed and went into Viktor and Yuuri’s apartment.

 

“Yurio, be nice to JJ,” Viktor advised and closed the door after him.

 

Yuri and JJ looked at each other in stunned silence. One second passed, two seconds passed, three seconds passed before both men pummelled at the door.

 

“Songgee, don’t leave me alone at the bed. Baby, I’m sorry, please come back. I love Taepoong. Let’s have him on the bed tonight. Baby?”

 

“Viktor, open the door! I don’t want to be with JJ! Viktor, daddy! Yuuri! The Katsudon was good. It was the best I’ve ever had. You are the best chef ever. Yuuri!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a challenge to see how many fucking’s can I insert in Yurio’s speech. Love the boy’s expressions. So on point.  
> I need a reason why every pro skater is appearing in the show and not practicing for Grand Prix. And I have a thing about Viktor saying wow! LOL.
> 
> And no, there's no daddy kink here. Just wanted to show that when Yuri's desperate, he's willing to do anything and every thing. 
> 
> Ep 12 is coming out and I'm half exhilarated and half scared. (Cue Minami's strangled squealing.) 
> 
> And I cannot use words to describe how happy your comments and kudos made me. Like so so so so goddamn happy. Thank you for taking the time to comment. I may not reply to all of them, but I read every single one of them. I don't have a beta. So you guys may see obvious grammar/spelling mistakes. I try to edit them whenever I spot them, so please close all three eyes at them. Some of y'all pointed out plotholes and I always feel like banging my head whenever I realised I didn't think things through properly enough.


	7. Yuri made a friend

Three panting men toppled into the apartment.

 

“Yuuri, never let me agree to anymore competitions in gym with you. Your stamina is not human,” Viktor flung himself onto the floor and huffed. Yuri, who never liked to show his weaker side, subtly slide onto the floor beside Viktor. Makkachin silently padded towards them and settled his cotton candy body next to the younger Russian. Yuri curled round the warm body, soaking up the comfort the poodle offered.c

 

Yuuri scratched his cheeks in slight embarrassment and went into the kitchen. It had been a month since they started living together due to the show. He had slowly gotten used to Viktor’s vivacious personality and how that guy had zero sense of personal space. In fact, Yuuri had gotten so comfortable with the presence of Viktor’s arm slung across his shoulders that he sometimes felt the bareness of his shoulders when Viktor kept his hands to himself.

 

He cracked three eggs onto a frying pan and let it fry while beating another two eggs in a bowl. Yuri loves sunny-side ups while Viktor is an avid fan of scrambled eggs. They had gotten permission from the producers of the show to allow Yuri to stay in their house. By a stroke of luck, viewers of the show were in love with Yuri’s blunt personality and had started calling him Viktor and Yuuri’s lovechild, much to their bemusement.

 

Yuri had tried to cook breakfast for the couple a few weeks earlier in an awkward attempt to appease Viktor when he accidentally stepped on Makkachin’s tail. It honestly was not much an issue, but emotional Viktor was unwilling to let it go. He ignored Yuri for the entirety of the day despite Yuuri trying to get them to talk to each other. It only ended when Yuri served them blackened toasts with scrambled eggs flavoured with eggshells and an entire box of salt the next morning. Viktor had laughed at the déjà vu while Yuuri unwillingly swallowed the terrible breakfast, not wanting to hurt the delicate child. _Russians and their burnt food indeed._

 

Hence, it was unanimous that Yuuri be in charge of their meals. On normal days, he usually cooked Japanese cuisine, something that he was much more confident and comfortable with. On days that Yuuri feel especially spiteful, which was getting more frequent as Yuuri grew closer with the Russians, both man-children would either get the infamous Japanese cup noodles that Yuri secretly loved or get pizza delivered.

 

“Oh Yurio, you are everywhere on Instagram,” Viktor commented as he scrolled through his feed, still lying on the floor. Yuri grunted, not saying much. He had gain an insane amount of fans through the program, and the ever increasing followers he had on his Instagram account were doing wonders to his immature ego.

 

“Yurio, you are going to be a part of this program?” Viktor sat up straight as he read a mail from Yakov.

 

“HUH?”

 

“Yakov said that you would be officially part of this program.”

 

“What do you mean Yurio’s gonna be part of the show. He’s only fifteen, who is his partner? Shit, my eggs!” Yuuri ran back into the kitchen.

 

“Fucking Yakov,” Yuri stomped back into his room, most likely to confront Yakov. True to Viktor’s guess, streams of the harshest Russian profanities flow from Yuri’s room. _Well, at least the editing team will be entertained._

 

After breakfast, the three of them silently helped to pack Yuri’s belongings up. He was supposed to meet his prospective partner at the unit below theirs.

 

“Yurio, if anything happens, or if you feel the slightest discomfit, run to us okay. You know the pin to our house,” Viktor looked at Yuri in his eyes in all his solemnity. Yuuri squeezed he boy closer to him and the Russian child nodded his head.

 

Truth be told, he was afraid. When Viktor and Yuuri proposed to accompany him down, he agreed immediately. His thorny personality made it hard for him to make friends. He was awkward with strangers and it was Yuuri’s generous personality that allowed them to lived together somewhat harmoniously for the past month. _At least no one was seriously maimed or gotten killed in the process._

 

The door to the lift opened and there was already a group of people crowding round a unit. The producer noticed the trio and immediately stepped forward to welcome them.

 

“Viktor, Yuuri. I see you came with Yuri,” the producer greeted. Viktor nodded his head in acknowledgement.

 

“Because you are only fifteen, your program will be slightly different from Viktor’s and JJ’s. Your character will be showing the audience young love. So instead of getting married, you will get to know your partner and do stuff together that you youngsters do when you all are dating,” he explained. Viktor’s rigid posture softened as tension flowed out.

 

“This is your partner, Otabek Atlin.” A stoic, young man was pushed forward and he stumbled a little. Sporting thick eyebrows and undercut, Otabek was handsome.

 

“Otabek Atlin,” he greeted with a hand stretched towards Yuri. The young Russian hesitantly slipped his smaller palms against his.

 

“Yuri Plisetsky.” Otabek’s hand was larger than him, and was very warm. Yuri decided that he wouldn’t mind shaking hands with him forever.

 

“A skater too? Never seen him before,” Viktor murmured into Yuuri’s ears. He had to suppress the slight shiver than went down his spine as Viktor’s breath blew against the curve of his sensitive ear.

 

“Viktor! He was the bronze medallist for the World Championship!” He whispered back, scandalised. Viktor gave a shrug.

 

“Know your competitors better!”

 

“I know you… And Chris,” Viktor changed his response at Yuuri’s unimpressed stare.

 

“Yurio, Yuuri and I will be leaving then. See you at eight in the evening later,” Viktor waved.

 

“Why are we meeting at eight later?”

“Have you forgotten? There’s going to be a charity gala at the end of the program and we are going to skate as part of the show and part as a charity effort.”

 

“Forgotten? More like you didn’t think I was worth informing about.”

 

“Yuuri!” Viktor panicked and quickly trailed after the dispassionate Japanese skater into the lift. “Yuuri, you know I’m not known for my memory!”

 

 

 

 

Yuri cleared his throat awkwardly. Otabek and him had been sitting on the couch for the past hour silently. He had hidden behind his phone when the rest of the crew left them alone and Otabek was just wordlessly staring at the empty TV in front of him.

 

“Um. So, I’m fifteen this year and from Russia –“ Yuri started, not being able to withstand the thick tension.

 

“I know you even though you may not remember me.” Yuri pressed himself against the other end of the sofa in a flash. _A stalker? Are you fucking kidding me?_

 

“No, I’m not a stalker.” _Oh my god what? Is he fucking reading my mind now?_

 

“I’m not a mind reader either.” A low chuckle slipped past Otabek’s lips. Yuri’s eyebrows were so high up his forehead as he pressed himself tighter against the arm of the couch. He was seriously debating to run back to Viktor and Yuuri.

 

“I’m… I’m just good at reading people’s expressions, I guess?” He rubbed his neck in embarrassment. “And no, I’m not a stalker. We met before. You probably couldn’t remember; you were only ten then.”

 

“Ten? I was already with Yakov when I was ten.”

 

“Yeah. My coach sent me to train with Yakov over the summer that year. But I could hardly keep up with the Junior class, so Yakov dropped me to the Novice class. You were there. Those eyes of yours, I cannot forget.” Otabek looked at Yuri softly.

 

“What about my eyes. My eyes are perfectly normal, you shit,” Yuri spat. Despite his hard words, he could hardly bring his eyes up to look at Otabek. Everything about the Kazakh skater screamed sincerity and Yuri was bad at handling such people. Yuuri included.

 

“You have the eyes of a soldier.” Seven words. Seven simple words that would have left other people bewildered, but not Yuri. Shifting his home rink from St. Petersburg to Moscow when he was only nine was no easy feat. His grandpa had emptied all his savings so that his precious grandson could have a chance in the international competitive scene. Yakov was hardly a warm, despite being responsible with a level head on his shoulders, guardian and the various talents under him gave Yuri immense pressure. He had to be the best. His entire family lives off his pay-out and any drop in sponsorship would leave his family out in the crippling winter. He had never told anybody his source of stress. Even Viktor, even though he was closest to him amongst the rink mates. Viktor was a skating genius, he would hardly understand him, Yuri had internalised that impression of Viktor. But here was Otabek Altin. A total stranger, yet understanding him so well.  He could feel his face heated up, a telling sign that he was close to tearing up. He bit his lip harder. He was not going to embarrass himself in front of Otabek.

 

An angry noise escaped when the first tear fell onto his palms. More followed and he was soon reduced into a sobbing wreck. Otabek silently shifted towards Yuri until they were pressed from shoulders to thighs. Yuri turned towards him and pressed his face against Otabek’s muscled shoulders. Tears soon wetted his shirt but Otabek could care less as he gathered the crying skater into his arms.

 

With the sunset sending streaks of sunlight into the room, and him being a quivering mess, Yuri made a friend that he knew he would never regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much feels from ep 12. The pair skating was so beautiful. And Viktor crying is aesthetic. LOL. 
> 
> Yuri’s name will remain as Yuri since that is his name. But he will be referred to as Yurio in speech. Yuri, Yuuri. I hope it’s not too confusing to read as that. 
> 
> Yuri was much more emotional here because there’s simply too much on his plate. Got send to foreign land to live with eccentric Viktor and anxious Yuuri. Had Grand Prix cancelled and hence delayed his senior debut. Suddenly realising he’s gonna appear in a show with a total, but nice, stranger. He’s only fifteen!
> 
> Thinking of chapter titles is a hurdle I need to pass. LOL.


	8. I will lift you

“There an ice rink within the building?” Yuuri’s amazed voice carried down the empty corridor. “How _much_ is the rent here!”

 

Vitkor pushed open the double doors leading to the rink and realised that everybody (read: JJ, Seunggil, Yuri and Otabek) was already on the ice. The couple quickly threw their stuff down at the nearest bench and laced their skates up in record time.

 

“Now that everybody’s here, let me explain what is going to happen for the last episode. For the last episode, we will be holding a charity gala for the Make-a-Wish Foundation. I hope you’ve heard of them. What they do is that they grant wishes to a select few that suffers from life-threatening medical diseases, hoping that they can gain joy and motivation through such acts. Initially, we planned to have all of you here to present your choreographies individually. But since we have six of you, and we are a program about love, we decided to have you perform pair skating instead.” The producer explained. He stood at the side off the rink, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of the professional skaters before him.

 

The six ice skaters sputtered. They were professional skaters, yes. World ranking skaters at that, yes. But they were all individual figure skaters. Even though pair skating is a discipline of figure skating, they had never attempted any pair skating unique technical elements before.

 

“The event will be held some six months later. An exact date will be confirmed later on. There are no restrictions for the event, just make sure there are no stripping. This is after all for a kids charity.” With that, the producer left the rink, unaccustomed to the coldness. 

 

“Eh, pair skating?” Yuuri whined and look at Viktor helplessly.

 

“I can lift you?” Viktor suggested nonchalantly.

 

“EHHH??? No, no, no!” Yuuri screeched as he skated backwards away from Viktor. His arms came around to wrap around his torso. Despite having joined Viktor in his morning exercise, his weight was still nowhere near his pre-Grand Prix weight.

 

“Why, my little piggy? Why so afraid?” Viktor smirked as he chased after Yuuri. The golden blades made harsh cuts onto the newly surfaced ice as Viktor gained speed. With a hard push, Viktor surged forward and lifted the Japanese skater into the air easily.

 

“Oh my god, Viktor!” Yuuri’s squeal had everyone else turned their heads towards him. Viktor held him firmly above his head and made a round across the rink. Once past the initial shock, Yuuri opened his eyes. His gasp was loud enough for Viktor to hear as the Russian skated even faster. The elevated view was different from what he was used to. Even though the rink only held a few bare benches, the different angle seemed to give the boring sight a distinct charm. He finally understood the joy on Yuuko’s face whenever Nishigori held her high up as they skated around Hatsetsu Ice Castle. Viktor slowed down and gently lowered Yuuri. Yuuri’s blade first contact on the ice was a little shaky, but Viktor’s firm hold on his waist assured him.

 

“What was that!” He gasped as he whirled around to face Viktor. The usual brown eyes were twinkling with such joy and delight that Viktor’s lips curled into a smile instinctively.

 

“A lift. But you really do need to keep your weight down.” Viktor mock panted as he dramatically flopped onto the ice.

 

“V-Viktor!”

 

At the other end of the rink, four skaters look at the scene dispassionately.

 

“Did Viktor trained for pair skating before?” JJ broke the silence.

 

“Never. Yakov felt that Viktor don’t have the right qualities as a pair skater. ‘Too fleeting,’ that’s what Yakov said,” Yuri replied.

 

 _Fucking genius_ , was what were in the minds of them.

 

“Well, I’ll be lifting you then,” Seunggil announced quietly.

 

“What?” Shreds of ice flew from JJ’s blades as he made a sharp turn to face his partner. Seunggil lifted a brow at the violent reaction he received.

 

JJ had learnt a lot about Seunggil during the past month, especially how to act around the seemingly cold man. And first on the list was to watch his mouth. “Because I’m the man in the relationship,” was JJ’s initial response. If he were to say that, he can see himself greeting the couch as his bed for the next week and cold shoulders from the Korean. The little steps he had made towards the Ice Beauty would be for naught.

 

“Because I’m heavy?” JJ went for the safer response. A soft harrumph escaped from Seunggil and he skated to position him behind JJ. With a loud huff, he slotted his hands onto JJ’s torso and lifted him. To Seunggil’s credit, he did indeed lift JJ off the ice, albeit only for a few centimetres. JJ hid his chuckles when he felt the slight tremor from Seunggil’s arms from the exertion.

 

“Babe, this would be better for us,” JJ stated when he was back on the ice. Without warning or so, he had Seunggil between his hands and threw the astounded skater away from him. It was only through years of dedicated training and pure muscle memory that Seunggil managed to land on the ice without crashing down. JJ quickly skated towards his partner when he realised Seunggil was shaking. However, instead of fear, the Korean skater was trembling from fury. _How dare he throw me away like I’m a piece of garbage!_ With a blood curdling cry, Seunggil launched himself towards JJ with JJ skating away with such speed that would put ice hockey players to shame.

 

“I will lift you,” Yuri commented as Otabek and him looked at the chasing duo. JJ honestly looked too happy as a person being chased. Otabek gazed at Yuri blankly. Yuri’s fierce gaze on him was unwavering. Wordlessly, Otabek lifted his arms up in acquiescence. The blinding smile Yuri sent to him almost knocked him down to his knees. The petite skater paused in front of him and placed his small hands on his ribs. Otabek held his breath as Yuri attempted to lift him. Attempt was the keyword as Yuri could not lift Otabek up. The solid mass of Otabek was too much for Yuri’s spindly arms.

 

Otabek gently brushed away the Russian’s hands. Yuri’s face was blushing furiously from exertion, embarrassment and anger.

 

“Come on, our aim is to put on a show better than those two pairs of idiots, aren’t we?” Otabek spoke calmly. Seunggil was still pursuing JJ relentlessly while Viktor and Yuuri were in their own love bubble, oblivious to their surroundings.

 

“Yeah.” Otabek took that as Yuri’s agreement and lifted Yuri onto his shoulders in a smooth movement.

 

“Oh.” It was all Yuri could manage as Otabek started gliding across the ice. His slim bottom fitted just right on Otabek’s shoulders. Yuri had not once doubted that Otabek will drop him and the firm arm across his thighs secured him even further.

 

“Like the Kazakh hero saving the Russian fairy,” Viktor sighed as the couple skated past him. Yuri flipped him the bird, his golden hair flying around from Otabek’s momentum. Yuuri snorted into his palm.

 

All heads turned to him when Viktor clapped twice loudly.

 

“Sorry to stop y’all lovebirds but I’ve actually booked the rink for the next two hours, so shoo shoo,” Viktor announced as he made the shoo-ing hand motions. It was with great grumbles and whines as the other four skaters unwillingly leave the rink.

 

“Shall we go out and have dinner together?” JJ suggested as the four of them exited the compound.

 

Seunggil scoffed at him and stalked forward. He still hadn’t forgiven JJ for that unwanted scare.

 

“Urgh, thanks for ruining my appetite,” Yuri mock gagged. “Come Otabek, we need to start planning our choreography.” The quiet Kazakh trailed after the Russian teenager, but not before nodding politely at JJ.

 

Seunggil noticed Yuri and Otabek overtook him and he paused. JJ had once told him that he really hated to dine alone. Seunggil wondered why he was reminded of that little fact. The gnawing in his stomach refused to go away and he stomped his foot in a spur of childishness. He spun on his heels and regarded his partner.

 

“Where,” he mumbled. The forlorn expression on JJ’s face was immediately discarded to give way to the purest form of happiness Seunggil had ever seen on that man’s face. JJ bounded up to him like a puppy and Seunggil suddenly had a mouthful of the wool blend sweater of JJ’s.

 

“I found this perfect restaurant that serves absolutely the most prefect kimchi jeegee.”

 

“Chigae,” Seunggil correctly gently. “Just say stew if you can’t pronounce it. And why are you even searching for kimchi stew? Didn’t you almost die the last time?”

 

“Ah, you see. This store allows you to choose the spiciness level. Isn’t that cool? And if you are able to reach level ten, you get to dine for free!” JJ’s excited chatter filled the walkway as he manoeuvred Seunggil into the lift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at titles. You guys will just have to bear with the sucky titles.
> 
> 25/12 Edit: Corrected the Yuuri's to Yuri's at the end of the story. Thanks for pointing those out! Merry Christmas!


	9. Quad Battle and the Zoo

Yuuri skated figure eights blankly as Viktor looked at him.

 

“What do you mean by you won’t skate?” Viktor prodded.

 

“Not won’t, but can’t.”

 

“You are skating fine now.”

 

The look Yuuri threw at Viktor made Viktor doubted his mental capacity for a second.

 

“Viktor, have you _even_ seen my skate at the Nationals? I bombed everything. They wondered if I was injured, but embarrassingly, nothing was physically wrong with me. I lost, despite being a top contender, because I was mentally weak.”

 

“Wow.”

 

“So I’m not going to perform at the charity gala. I am not stupid enough to embarrass myself on national TV again.” Viktor remained silent as he continued to observe Yuuri skating figure eights.

 

“Quad battles, let’s do a quad battle,” he proposed.

 

Yuuri slipped onto the ice with a large thud. “What?”

 

“Quad battles? You know how there’s always this unofficial quad battle thing going on during skating gala practices?”

 

“I _know_ what is a quad battle. Heck, I’ve seen every quad battle you were in –“

 

“Oh?”

 

“ – And knows that you have never lost in any of them. What makes you think that I, who flopped every jump in every major competition that I participated in, can win you?” Yuuri cried.

 

“We shall bet on house work. An entire week’s worth of laundry, doing the dishes and vacuuming.”

 

Yuuri paused. He can cook, but he truly hated doing the dishes. It may be stemmed from the fact that he was always on dishes duty when he was young back at his family’s onsen. Viktor knew about it and always graciously cleaned up the dirty dishes. Laundry was not much of an issue to him but vacuuming was beginning to become a challenge. After Viktor installed a huge couch and three unidentified Greek looking statues in the bedroom (One of the marble statue looked disturbingly similar to Viktor.).

 

“Give me thirty minutes to warm up.”

 

The ice rink was quiet except for the sharp scratches the blades made across the ice.

 

 

“So the rule is that the first person who misses the quad loses,” Viktor stated. “And since I proposed the battle, I shall start first.” Yuuri nodded.

 

Viktor skated around the peripheral of the rink as he slowly gained momentum. When he was at the right speed, he tilted his right skate outwards and propelled his body into the air. He spun his body adroitly and landed beautifully on his outside skate. A quadruple axel jump. Yuuri clapped his hands and Viktor swirled his hands and took a deep bow towards Yuuri in reply.

 

“Your turn, love.”

 

Yuuri unhurriedly made circles around the rink as he waited for the opportune time to execute his jump. He timed his breaths according to his steps. With every exhale, he cleared a thought from his brain.

 

_I am not unfamiliar with quads. Ciao Ciao had me land hundreds of them during practices. This is not a competition. There is nobody looking at me. Think of the dishes. An entire week of dishes. Think of all those cumbersome menu you can now attempt with zero regards to the mess you make._

 

Picking up speed, he went to the centre of the rink. Digging his right toe pick into the ice, Yuuri vaulted into the air and twisted his body for exactly four rotations before landing on the back outside of shis right skate.

 

“That was a perfect lutz, Yuuri!” Viktor called out.

 

“Thanks.”

 

Viktor smiled and started his rounds. Yuuri groaned as he felt a crick in his knee. It really had been awhile since he did jumps and the short warm up previously was not enough to cover up weeks of disuse. Catching his breath, Yuuri bent down sharply and pressed his chest against his knees to stretch it out. He hissed slightly at the tension in his muscles but held on.

 

Viktor casted a glance at Yuuri to make sure his eyes were on him and saw his rear in full glory. Yuuri was wearing a pair of fitting black tights which moulded like a second piece of skin as it stretched over his posterior. The surprisingly full rump jiggled lightly as Yuuri twisted around. Viktor swallowed drying and launched himself into the air in a subconscious effort. When he realised he had already peaked in his jump, he hurriedly twisted his hips to clock the full four rotations needed. His land was less than graceful and he looked at Yuuri, panting. The sudden stress he put on his body winded him more than he thought. He subtly reigned in his loud breathing, hoping that Yuuri would not notice his subpar stamina.

 

“That was an under-rotation. There were only three,” Yuuri pointed it out.

 

As much as he wanted to deny (two weeks of house duties is a terror), the sportsmanship in him reigned first. He was a proud athlete.

 

“… Yes…”

 

“HOLY SHIT! YES! NO. MORE. DISHES!” Yuuri’s loud whoop got Viktor into a start. The excited man skated circles and circles around him, all while exclaiming his joy.

 

“It’s only for two weeks,” he whined.

 

But his words were lost to Yuuri as the man executed a perfect quadruple flip in the midst of his exuberance, which was followed by a triple toe loop. Viktor crossed his arms and tapped his index finger lightly on his lips. Yuuri was an unpolished diamond and Viktor was going to make him shine.

 

(It was until Yuuri had settled comfortably on the bed, ready to sleep before it _finally_ registered to him that he had won Viktor. _The_ Viktor Nikiforov. He cackled his glee which earned him an extra large hit from Viktor’s pillow. _“Shut up.”_ )

 

 

 

 

 

“You drive a motorbike?” Yuri exclaimed.

 

“Meet my baby,” Otabek introduced proudly. A black Harley Davidson Street 750 gleamed under the florescent lights of the underground carpark. _Well, it made sense_ , Yuri thought. Otabek always wears a fine leather biker jacket and he made a beautiful picture with his motorcycle.

 

Otabek threw a helmet to Yuri and donned on one, before mounting his bike.

 

“Wait, I’m not getting on the motorbike, am I?” Yuri thrusted the helmet back to Otabek.

 

“Why? Scared?” The small lilt at the corner of Otabek’s thin lips taunted Yuri.

 

“You are on!” The Russian skater snarled and snatched the helmet back. He buckled the helmet onto his head and sat behind Otabek. The moment he was seated onto the bike, he regretted. He had never ride a motorcycle before and the many horror stories he heard with regards to motorcycles were not doing any good to his jittery heart. His fingers went under Otabek’s leather jacket and dug his gloved fingers into his shirt as Otabek revved the engine. The loud rumbling of the machine muffled his whimpers.

 

“You are going to fly if you don’t hold on tightly,” Otabek laughed as he pulled Yuri’s trembling hands over his waists. Yuri was thankful Otabek could not see the red flush on his face.

 

 

 

 

“Zoo! We are going to the zoo!” Yuri need not to be told twice as he hopped right out of the bike once Otabek swerved into the lot reserved for motorcycles. He removed Yuri’s helmet from the excited teen and locked it into the small storage at the back of his bike.

 

He went ahead and bought tickets for the both of them as Yuri cooed and cawed at the large sign that wrote ‘Central Park Zoo’. He was certain he would find at least three Instagram posts of Yuri in different poses with the sign. He got his phone out and logged onto his Instagram, and right on top of his feed was two photos of Yuri. He quickly liked both posts and joined Yuri.

 

“Come on, the large cats are this way,” Otabek gently manoeuvred the eager teen towards the right way.

 

“How do you know I like cats?” Yuri latched onto Otabek’s arm, eyes shining with so much delight that Otabek feared the adorable teen may combust from all the excitement contained within that small body.

 

He only laughed as he urged Yuri further along the way. The younger teen was clad in a loud jaguar spotted overcoat and a pair of equally loud leopard printed boots. _How he knew, indeed._

 

Yuri was in a fantastic mood. The large felines were unusually active in their massive enclosures as they captured everybody’s attention with every regal move of their graceful limbs. Seeing his favourite animals made Yuri lowered his guards as he chatted nineteen to the dozen with Otabek. More like Yuri fired away rapidly while Otabek nodded his head.

 

“So you see, when a leopard spots his prey, it will –“

 

“Oh my god, is that Yuri Plisetsky?” A jarring voice interrupted Yuri’s monologue on the hunting tactics of a leopard. The couple whirled around to see a lady jumping in front of them.

 

“I am such a big fan of yours, Yuri!” The woman ran towards Yuri and shook his hands violently. “I am so glad to be able to see you! I watch every episode of the show faithfully, you know? I really love your interactions with Viktor!” She gushed relentlessly.

 

“Oh, before I forget,” She started and dug through a large bag that mostly likely contained souvenirs from the zoo. With a proud grin, she fished out a pair of cat ears headband and fitted it over Yuri’s blonde head.

 

“Perfect,” she whispered and pranced away, before the small team of cameramen decided to drag her away.

 

“Why are my fans so _fucking_ weird?” He made a move to remove the white headband when Otabek stopped him.

 

“Don’t. You… look cute in it,” he stammered and look away. A light blush dusted across his high cheekbones which offset Yuri’s own blushing face. Yuri turned around and when he spotted the gift shop, he dragged Otabek along.

 

“I am not doing this alone,” he grunted. He was quick to be at Otabek’s side after he had purchased what he needed. Otabek’s brow rose slightly when he saw Yuri took out a pair of small brown bear ears headband. The petite teen stretched to place the headband on Otabek’s head but he could only scratch at the older teen’s forehead. A displeased noise escaped Yuri’s lips.

 

Otabek chuckled at the disgruntled cat before him. He placed his hands on the svelte hips of Yuri’s and bent down. Yuri will be wont to admit, but there was a distinct shiver down his spine as he felt Otabek’s warm palms even through his coat. He couldn’t resist running his hands across’s the Kazakh’s hair. The undercut was rough and spiky but the full hair at the crown was surprisingly soft. Otabek remained crouched, patient, as Yuri ruffled his hair back and forth, back and forth, like a playful kitten with a bright red yarn ball.

 

They spent the rest of the day with the headbands on their head, neither were willing to take it off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a skater here so please bear with my rubbish skating description. Why am I doing this to myself. I will have to write about the three pairs skating at the end. Omg.
> 
> Never been to Central Park Zoo, so I'm taking massive creative license here. HAHA. Just take it that the animals are still super active in the winter. Maybe they have like space heaters attached in their enclosure. LOL.


	10. Of Outdoor Ice Rinks and Ponyo

“You aren’t cold?” Yuuri asked as he tucked the lower half of his face into a bright red woollen scarf. It was not his, Yuuri never had clothes that were of loud colours. They were usually blue, black and more black. The scarf was Viktor’s initially. But Yuuri started shaking like a poor leaf when a gust of chilling wind blew and Viktor wound his scarf around the shivering skater without a second thought.

 

“I’m a full-blooded Russian, Yuuri. I’m born in the winter and I probably ate snow for my first meal. Knowing what my papa is like,” Viktor rolled his eyes slightly at the mention of his father. Picturing how baby Viktor looks like brought a light blush on Yuuri’s cold cheeks and he hid further into the warm scarf. It smelled of spice and clove and so very Viktor.

 

The couple was out in the streets because Viktor wanted to visit the Christmas market. Viktor was a collector, in a nice way; a hogger in a bad way. Viktor collects and keeps almost everything. From movie ticket stubs that they went to watch, to the receipts of dining restaurants, down to the very first grocery list that Yuuri had written for him.

 

The crowd was thin at the market, considering it was still on the early side of the afternoon. Viktor got both of them mulled wine as they strolled through the little tents and carts, selling food or trinkets. A stroll down a row had Viktor becoming the proud owner of two snow globes, a vintage poster from NASA that said ‘Explore the World’ in a starry background with a childishly drawn astronaut and more bells for their Christmas Tree. Yuuri had half a mind to confiscate Viktor’s wallet to stop him from buying anymore stuff. But the way Viktor’s sea-green eyes lit with jubilance every time he saw stuff to his liking had Yuuri softening up again.

 

“Yuuri!” Viktor’s breathless shout brought him out from his thoughts and he looked at where Viktor was pointing at. It was an outdoor skating rink. And it was massive. Like a child, both of them ran towards the rink and perch themselves right at the fence. The rink seemed to stretched endlessly and their bodies were shaking from excitement. They turned to look at each other simultaneously and ran to the ice skating booths. No words were needed as they just knew what each other wanted. They quickly rented skates from the booths and were soon on the ice.

 

They started with lazy circles round the perimeter. The blades on the rented skates were too blunt, but they still skated without any problems. Every other person on the ice stopped to look at them when the couple skated past them. Whether it was their effortless skate or the euphoric joy on their faces, nobody knew exactly the reason what made them so enraptured towards Viktor and Yuuri. They simply were captivating. Without any reason or so, people started to make way for the couple as it was evolved into a simple run and catch, on ice. Yuuri’s childish giggles was a stark contrast to Viktor’s low chuckles as the Russian started chasing his little piggy. Yuuri screamed and shrieked every time Viktor came a little too close. He made sharp turns wherever possible, sending shards of ice into Viktor.

 

Yuuri was too busying turning behind to make sure there was ample distance between them when he skated into a person. He immediately fell to his bottom.

 

“Oh my god, I am so so so sorry,” Yuuri gushed out apologies after apologies. Viktor was quick to be by his side and hauled him up.

 

“I’m really sorry- JJ?” Yuuri called out. Viktor, who was busying patting Yuuri’s trousers off small little flakes of ice, looked up.

 

“Oh, hi!” Viktor greeted cheerfully. Seunggil skated quietly towards them and stopped beside JJ.

 

“What did you do?” He pressed as he took in Yuuri’s flushed face and how the other people who were stuck at the peripheral of the rink were tumbling out of the rink.

 

“Songgee,” JJ whined at Seunggil’s apparent lack of trust in him, “I did not do anything!”

 

“Yeah, it was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention,” Yuuri seconded.

 

Seunggil nodded. “We wanted to practice, but the rink was booked by Yurio and Otabek. So that guy suggested coming down to visit this Christmas market. Then we saw the rink,” he explained.

 

Silence befell the four of them before they started giggling. How obsessed were they over skating to get this happy whenever they came across ice rinks by chance.

 

The two couples skated aimlessly around the rink and broke into simple step sequences occasionally. Those were usually met with ferocious applause. It did not take long for people to completely round the ice rink as many wanted to personally witness the show those professional skaters put on.

 

Viktor was obviously enjoying the attention showered on him. Out of the four skaters, Viktor was the most attuned to having appreciative eyes on him. He practically grew up with the media recording every step he made. As the audience reacted more fervently, he gave them even flashier sequences. JJ, feeling slightly upset that Viktor so easily won the hearts of the audience, started to challenge the genius skater subtly. When Viktor did an Ina Bauer, he reciprocated with a sitting spin. When he did a camel spin, the Russian skater responded with a Biellmann Spin.

 

“Seriously, how old are you guys?” Seunggil flatly dissed. The two childish skaters paused and turned to look at Seunggil.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Do a short program instead. It will be faster.” It was meant to be a sarcastic remark, but Viktor and JJ obviously took it seriously.

 

“I think that’s a perfect idea!” Viktor clapped his hands. Seunggil can only gaped while Yuuri wrapped the entire red scarf over his face.

 

“JJ and I will do a short choreography and the two of you will count the points. Whoever has a better score wins, and the loser gets to pay for dinner after this.”

 

The pact was sealed with a firm handshake.

 

Viktor and JJ quickly skated off the ice and went to the booth to see if they would be willing to play their songs for their impromptu competition. The booth owner was more than willing to comply.  

 

Yuuri and Seunggil skated to the side, suddenly playing the role of judges. No thanks to Viktor, really. JJ skated to the other side of the rink while Viktor took position in the middle of the rink.   

 

The moment the strings struck, Yuuri wanted to melt into the ice and be one with it. Viktor was skating to _Ponyo_. _Fucking Ponyo, of all things_. Yuuri rubbed his face tiredly. He must have spent too much time with Yuri to have curse so easily. They were watching the Studio Ghibli production just the night before because Viktor pestered Yuuri for a favourite movie of his. They ended up watching the other movies by Studio Ghibli and Viktor seemed to have a soft spot for Ponyo.

 

“Ponyo?” Seunggil asked in confusion, while his lips were twitching into a smile.

 

“Don’t ask,” Yuuri growled. The Korea snorted louder when he felt Yuuri’s despondence.

 

Viktor obviously shared none of his partner’s embarrassment. The upbeat tunes excited the children in the audience as they recognised the classic cartoon. Some of them even sang with the song, even though Viktor had the Japanese version of the song played.

 

Yuuri was sure Viktor had never skated to Ponyo before, but the performance before could have told him otherwise. Viktor took to the ice like fish to water. His skate was playful and childish, perfectly capturing Ponyo’s innocence and babyish mannerisms. Viktor had not attempted any jumps yet as he was spoilt by his custom made golden blades. The rented skates were really too blunt for Viktor’s liking and he was still trying to cope a feel from his skates. As the song picked up to the chorus, Viktor did his first jump.

 

A double salchow. The landing was a little shaky as he was not used to the smooth landing his golden blades offer him. But nonetheless, it was a clean jump.

 

“A double salchow has a base value of 1.3. With a GOE of +2, that would give a total of 1.7,” Seunggil muttered quietly to himself. Yuuri’s brow rose to his hairline. _Koreans and their math abilities indeed._

 

The song retreated to its interlude and the staccato notes had Viktor did a triple loop followed by a double flip. The landings were perfect this time and it showed on Viktor’s face. Seunggil continued to mutter calculations while Yuuri admired how Viktor could just spin a whole new choreography for a song that he had only heard two days ago.

 

Viktor ended the song with a sitting spin. When he rose up, he was met with ferocious applause and Viktor bowed. He skated towards JJ and the two men exchanged hi-fives as the Canadian skated towards the middle. He nodded once towards the booth and raised his hands.

 

A familiar voice started crooning from the speakers surrounding the rink.

 

It was Seunggil’s turn to burrow into the ice while Yuuri was the image of a confused marshmallow.

 

“Is... that JJ’s voice?” Yuuri asked.

 

“It’s his theme song. He has it as his ringtone, and now he’s bloody skating to it.” Seunggil gritted his teeth.

 

“Oh.” And that was all Yuuri could manage. How does one even respond to the knowledge that one had his own personal theme song?

 

The song was foreign to everybody present but it’s catchy and upbeat tune soon had everyone clapping to it. Seunggil made a strangled voice as the claps grew in volume.

 

JJ mouthed along the lyrics as he skated confidently. He had practiced to this song ever since he had it made and he could skate through the entirety with a blindfold on.

 

“I look in the mirror, the king looks back at me.” JJ smile grew as the music picked up to signal the start of the chorus. That signal for a quadruple toe loop. He stuck his right foot into the ice only to slip off the ice. He touched the ice lightly with his fingers and quickly regained his momentum. _Ah, rented skates, shit._

 

“He must have forgotten that the rented skates have no toe picks in it.” Seunggil shook his head. His face may be void of emotions, but Yuuri saw the tight fists Seunggil made when JJ lost his balance.

 

If anything, JJ was a ball of sunshine and optimism and he was quick to get back on his feet. The song progresses and he did a single lutz and a double flip.  The second chorus came and JJ replaced what should be a tricky step sequence with a simple Ina Bauer. The smile was slowly back on JJ’s face as he finally knew how to work with the blunt skates. Another flashy sequence and the song slowed to the end.

 

“I look in the mirror, the king smiles at me.” JJ ended with a short spin and he stopped facing Seunggil, with a hand extended towards him. JJ felt his world lit up while Seunggil smiled at him.

 

Yuuri could only smile at the warm exchange.

 

 

 

 

 

Seunggil declared that Viktor was the winner and JJ was surprisingly accepting of his defeat. He did not even complain when Viktor wanted to dine at an expensive Spanish restaurant. During the meal, JJ was bent backwards and forwards to make sure Seunggil was comfortable. Flagging the waiter to refill Seunggil’s empty water glass or demanding to have their table changed to one beside the ceiling-to-floor windows when he catch Seunggil looking out twice.

 

Yuuri smiled into his spoon. _Seunggil was indeed the king_.

 

“Viktor, stop piling the paella on my plate!” He cried as Viktor paused midway in his scoop,

 

“But Yuuri, you looked so cute when you stuffed your cheeks! Like a hamster!” Yuuri threw a piece of salad at Viktor’s way.

 

 

 

 

“Did you have fun today?” JJ asked as the couple snuggled under the warm covers of their bed.

 

“It was not bad.” JJ smiled. It meant that Seunggil had enjoyed himself. JJ had became a master of deciphering Seunggil during the past months.

 

“Did I skate as well as Kim Yuna?”

 

“As if you can surpass sunbae,” Seunggil yawned.

 

“Songbae? What’s that. Song for a bae?” JJ pestered the drowsy man and also shut up when Seunggil placed his ice cold toes against his thighs.

 

“Your toes are as cold as your heart,” JJ complained but he did not shake the offending feet away. Seunggil smiled, and in a rare moment of affection, snuggled into JJ. The Canadian was stiff as a rock as he had never expected Seunggil to initiate contact. It was always him, touching him, pulling him along. But this was the first time Seunggil had touched him voluntarily. He could almost hear the angels sing at the back of his mind. The warm puffs of breaths against his clavicle shook him off his stupor and he hurried to gather the drowsing man into his arms lest Seunggil had a change in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Initially, I wanted Viktor to skate to a Japanese children song. Or the theme song of Gudetama. Omg, I’m having images of it right now. HAHAHAHA.
> 
> Thanks for being extra accommodating towards Viktor performing a quad axle. I didn't know it's that awesome. I just like it because it sounds nice. Superficial, I know.


	11. Yuuri's Anxiety

When Viktor woke up, he knew something was off about Yuuri. For one, Yuuri was never a morning person. He could never wake up before Viktor and it always take Viktor minutes of cuddling and sweet murmurs to even get the adorable Japanese out of the warm bed. It was hardly a hassle as Viktor enjoyed the little noises Yuuri made as he struggled against the tendrils of sleep. But when Viktor sat up on his bed this morning, Yuuri was not beside him. He could hear the sink running in the toilet and Viktor relaxed back into the bed.

 

He was half asleep when Yuuri stepped out of the toilet.

 

“Morning,” he greeted. Startled, Yuuri turned to look at him and gave a twitchy smile in return. Viktor’s silver brows furrowed. He had worked hard to get Yuuri past his embarrassed state and Yuuri had been comfortable in his presence lately. He could not even maintain eye contact with Viktor as he darted his eyes all over the room.

 

“I-I’ll get breakfast r-ready,” Yuuri muttered and escaped. Viktor sighed and ran a hand across his silver locks. He looked at Yuuri’s direction again before going into the toilet to freshen up.

 

Yuri and Otabek was already in his kitchen when Viktor finally made it out of the room.

 

“Yurio, the meat is still frozen,” Yuuri warned when Yuri went to poke at the defrosting meat for the third time in ten minutes. “You should have texted me first if you wanted breakfast here.”

 

“This is not my first time over. You never told me I have to inform beforehand,” Yuri complained from his place over the island. It was true. Yuri was at their place at least once a week. And he always brought Otabek along.

 

Otabek had taken upon himself to cut a few slices of the fruits pound cake he brought over. While Yuri had no qualms to impose on Viktor and Yuuri, Otabek could not. Afterall, Yuri was rink mates with Viktor while Otabek knew neither of them. As much as he did not want to bother them, Yuri and he could hardly cook for themselves and he was no fool to reject home-cooked food.

 

“Oh, Otabek, you needn’t get anything for us,” Viktor started as he entered the kitchen. Otabek smiled while Yuri snatched a slice of the pound cake while waiting for his breakfast to be ready. The pound cake was moist with a right balance of sweetness and Yuri soon reached for a second slice. He sent a thumbs up to Otabek and the Kazakh returned with his own thumbs up.

 

“You know, verbal communication is sometimes needed, besides thumbs up,” Viktor laughed. To his knowledge, Yuri and Otabek’s interaction mostly consisted of thumbs up and _davai_ and Viktor could only shake his head at how pure their relationship is. He ignored Yuri’s angry spluttering and grabbed a thickly sliced pound cake.

 

“Yuuri,” he called as he draped his lengthy body over Yuuri’s. He pushed his half-eaten cake into Yuuri’s mouth and he accepted easily with a soft blush over his neck.

 

“Oh no, we are running out of rice,” he noted as he upended the last grain of rice into the rice cooker.

 

“See, the twenty kilograms of rice was the right choice,” Viktor preened.

 

“Don’t.”

 

Yuri and Otabek shovelled the piping hot katsudon the moment Yuuri placed it on the island top. Viktor and Yuuri were to stunned, chopsticks barely hanging on their fingers.

 

It was only when the bowl was empty did the two teenagers stopped for a breather. Yuuri clucked his tongue like a disapproving mother before he went to filled the empty bowls with another serving.

 

“Those were the days when I ate two bowls of rice per meal too,” Viktor rested his head on his wrist with a wistful smile.

 

Yuri and Otabek looked at each other before giving each other a thumbs up.

 

“Davai,” Viktor turned to Yuuri, wagging his eyebrows.

 

“Davai,” Yuuri replied.

 

“Davaiiii,” Viktor sighed.

 

“Davai,” Yuuri smiled.

 

Yuri would have thrown the contents of his bowl over the sickening couple if not because it was his favourite food.

 

“What time will you be down the team’s rink later?” Yuri asked.

 

“Team... rink?”

 

“Do you even read Yakov’s email?” The sheepish smile on Viktor’s face said it all.

 

“Viktor!” Yuuri and Yuri’s voices rang loud and shrill while Otabek continued to eat quietly.

 

“So what is it?” Yuuri prompted.

 

“Apparently Yakov and Team America’s new coach were ex rink mates. So they are having some skate camp. But we all know why Yakov’s here,” Yuri snorted.

 

Three pairs of eyes landed on Viktor (ncluding Otabek, surprise surprise).

 

“Have more faith in me,” he cried.

 

“When you start to read your coach’s emails,” Yuuri countered.

 

“Yuuri!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yuuri was overwhelmed. The amount of pressure he felt could rival that of the Grand Prix Final. The moment they entered the rink, all eyes were on him. Yuri was quick to reunite with his Russian rink mates with Otabek trailing behind him. Yuuri stood rooted at the entrance, unable to move. Viktor stayed beside him.

_What does Viktor even see in him?_

_Viktor should be better off with another guy._

_What were the production team thinking of to pair this subpar_ thing _with Viktor._

 

They did not say out loud. But Yuuri could see it. He could hear it. The laughter, the sneers, of how incompatible he was beside Viktor. He could feel them stalking towards him, slow but steady, like a predator upon his prey. He could feel their shadows looming over him, caging him in, confining him. He could not move, he could not _even breathe_. He knew he was shaking, but that was the last of his concerns. He needed to leave, he needed to escape. The tendrils of the shadows crept to his feet, twining round his ankles as they continue to snake up his thighs, up his waist, up his chest and they curled around his neck, tightening painfully around his jugular. _He needed to breathe._

 

Viktor was alarmed. He could feel Yuuri verging on a panic attack. The poor man was trembling and he could almost feel Yuuri’s heart thumping wildly against his ribcage. He realised Yuuri was not even breathing. He had never dealt with panic attacks before and he had no idea what to do to stop Yuuri from crumbling.

 

Quickly, he turned the both of them around. He knew Yuuri would not want anybody to be aware of his anxiety issues and he hoped that the empty doorway would be more calming than the dozen pairs of eyes on them. He waved at the hovering cameramen and they took the hint and left the couple to be.

 

“You have to breathe,” he urged urgently. It was of no use and Yuuri’s face was turning ashen by the second.

 

“Yuuri, love, _breathe_.” He brushed Yuuri’s fringes away and wiped away the cold sweat that had dotted along his hairline.

 

“Come on, babe. _Breathe for me!”_

 

That seemed to work as he heard Yuuri gasped loudly.

 

“Breathe with me, love. In… Out… In… Out…,” Viktor prompted as he tried to bring down Yuuri’s gasps. “Yes, you are doing a fantastic job, babe,” he encouraged.

 

Viktor continued to align his breaths with Yuuri’s, even after his breaths were slow and stable.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Not trusting his voice, Yuuri nodded.

 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

 

He shook his head.

 

Vitor pinched the bridge of his nose and held in a frustrated sigh. _Okay, I can do this_.

 

“Will you be comfortable going back in?”

 

Yuuri nodded his head.

 

“I’ll be right here with you.” Yuuri sent him a real albeit watery smile.

 

They slowly made their way to the entrance of the rink. Before Yuuri could do it, Viktor knelt down to remove Yuuri’s skate guards.

 

“V-Viktor!” Yuuri stammered. A shrill whistle came from a red haired lady wearing the Russian team’s jacket. Viktor mock bowed at the attention given to him and they entered the rink.

 

“Viktor, get your ass here now!” A loud growl came from a middle-aged balding man.

 

“Yakov!” Viktor greeted cheerily, but made no attempts to move from Yuuri’s side.

 

“It’s okay. You better get to him least he explodes,” Yuuri urged. Yakov’s face was turning a beautiful shade of red and Viktor was actually curious if Yakov would explode into a mess of blood and tissues.

 

“But Yuuri-“

 

“I am fine,” Yuuri cut him off. “Besides, Leo is here. I can talk to him.” Not far from them, a young lad was making his way towards them.

 

Viktor mournfully parted from Yuuri, but not before calling the cameramen to his side. Yuuri would do better without a camera in his face.

 

“Vitya, I hope you have not been skipping training. Now, Michael here insists that his protégé can do this combi jump that no one but him can. Of course you can do it. There is nothing you can’t do on ice, Vitya. You will not shame your name, Russia and most importantly me.” Yakov jabbed into his chest.

 

Yakov was not one to show off his talented skaters impulsively. Viktor had a vague memory of Michael. They had some internal competition going on since Yakov and Michael’s rink days and it had spilled over to their coaching jobs and even their marriage. If anything, Viktor hated to let Yakov down, after all that he had done for him.

 

“Sure, I love a challenge,” he smiled.

 

At the side, Yuri kicked and pulled as he wanted to be part of the battle as well. Yakov could only thank every deity above for Otabek to be able to hold off the feisty cat.

 

 

“Yuuri!” Leo called out once he was beside the Japanese skater.

 

“Leo,” he smiled and they shared a hug. Leo always gave nice hugs.

 

“It’s been awhile since we last met!” Leo complained and the two laughed.

 

“How is Guanghong? I haven’t been speaking much to him lately,” Yuuri admitted.

 

“He’s fine. Ah, wait.” Leo held a hand up as he took out his phone out of his training pants. Yuuri could not help smiling. Leo must have snuck his phone in. He remembered those days when Celestino had to forcefully pry Phichit’s phone out of his hands so that the social media obsessed man could focus on his skates.

 

“Nothing beats a live call,” Leo explained as he held the phone before the both of them.

 

“What even is the time over there! Won’t he be sleeping?”

 

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. He stays up to chase his Korean dramas.”

 

Not a second after, the call was picked up.

 

“Leo, I was just at the good part of the drama!” A tinny whiny voice sounded from the phone as a pouty Chinese boy appeared on the screen.

 

“Guanghong, look who’s here with me!” He tiled the screen more towards Yuuri so that both of their face were captured within the window.

 

“Yuuri! Oh my god, give me a moment,” Guanghong disappeared off the screen and returned quickly.

 

“I’ve just paused my drama. Yuuri!!!! Why haven’t you talked to me this while,” he pointed an accusing finger.

 

Leo and Guanghong laughed as Yuuri started to stammer and apologise and explain all in a typical Yuuri fashion. The three skaters updated each other about their current status before Guanghong started to complain about one annoying rink mate. The call only ended when an irate voice called for Leo. The American skater quickly stuffed his phone and went off to continue his drills which he had ditched when he saw Yuuri.

 

Yuuri quickly waved him off. He scanned the packed rink and spotted Viktor in the middle of the crowd. He pulled off a complicated step sequence before launching his lithe body into the air. He twisted into the air effortlessly and landed onto the ice with such grace that made Yuuri’s anxieties resurfaced again. Why would someone of such calibre wants to stay with him. The small smile on Yakov’s face, the thunderous claps Viktor received when he pulled it off and Yuuri had enough.

 

He skated hastily to the exit and left.

 

When Yuri noticed Yuuri leaving, he tried to skate to the other man, but Otabek held him back. He frowned heavily but the Kazakh only shook his head, his hand firm around Yuri’s arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ended this chapter with a smol cliffhanger. AHAHA. 
> 
> Happy New Year! Wishing y'all a fantastic year ahead and hopefully season 2 for YOI. AND SHERLOCK HOLMES IS FINALLY HERE.


	12. Of misunderstandings and make ups

Yuuri got into the bed when he reached home. He shut Makkachin out of the room. For awhile, the poodle whined and scratched at the door before it went back to its favourite spot by the ceiling to floor window.

 

He quickly got out of his phone and dialled for Phichit. Phichit was his rock during his time at Detroit and he was sure that Phichit would be able to help him this time too. Phichit always know and he always help.

 

“Yuuri, can I call you back later? I’m in the middle of my folding my shirts-“

 

“Phichit.” The quiet voice of Yuuri had Phichit dropped everything that he had on his hands. _To hell with my clothes_.

 

“Yuuri.” And Phichit kept silent and waited. Yuuri will only speak when he was ready. Pestering him will not work and it would actually make Yuuri clamp up even further. Yuuri had already called him, so Phichit was confident that Yuuri will talk.

 

“I-I can’t do this anymore.” Yuuri’s voice broke at the end and there was nothing Phichit would not do to be there beside Yuuri.

 

“You can’t do what.”

 

“This programme. I can’t continue anymore.”

 

“Why? You’ve been doing wonderfully well!” Besides the frequent chats he had with Yuuri, Phichit had made it to watch every episode of the reality TV and he had thought that Yuuri and Viktor had been doing well.

 

“It’s just Viktor being nice. As a fellow skater.”

 

“Yuuri, if he didn’t like you he would have left the show. But he didn’t.”

 

“He was just too nice to reject me you know. He must have felt pity for me, a disgusting failure of a skater who can’t do jumps.”

 

“Stop there. You may not have performed well enough during the Grand Prix Finals. But you even making it to the Finals meant that you are amongst the top six of figure skaters. Do not put your skating and yourself down. Do you hear me?” Phichit’s voice was firm. He wondered why Yuuri was so unconfident about himself. He understood it usually was the anxiety speaking but there were times he just wanted to shove Yuuri’s head into the wall so that he could finally see how beautiful his skates were.

 

“… I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be. What made you think Viktor stayed behind for no other reasons but pity?”

 

“You need to see the way he smiled today at the rink. His smiles were so bright and he looked so comfortable there. He belongs there, you know. Among beautiful, talented skaters.”

 

“Yuuri, did you even _see_ the way Viktor looks at you? It’s as if you are the most precious thing on Earth!”

 

Phichit did not like one bit of Yuuri’s deprecating laughter that followed.

 

“What brought this on?” Phichit asked. He knew that there was something much greater that had triggered the breakdown.

 

“Before we started the show, the production team told us that along the filming we would be asked to continue or dissolve the marriage. It’s going to happen the day after. I-I’ve been thinking and I still can’t think of a reason why Viktor wants to be with me.”  

 

 

 

Viktor hurried home when he realised Yuuri was not at the rink. He had of course executed the supposedly difficult combination jump with ease and perfection. In a rare moment of happiness, Yakov pulled Viktor into a hug as he saw Michael’s face turned red with embarrassment and anger. Viktor relished in the small victory and indulged himself with more routines. It did not help as the entire Russian team came onto him, each of them wanting a piece of Viktor to themselves. Viktor was wont to admit, but he did miss the ragtag that made up of the Russian team. They were afterall battle comrades. Friends that he had made since he was young and friends that supported each other through Yakov’s horrifying trainings. Between Mila’s rants about her latest boyfriends to Georgi’s sniffles of Anya, Viktor laughed and listened even if there was a nagging feeling throughout.

 

It was only when he realised that Yuuri was gone did the nagging feeling intensified. His face paled instantly. He had left Yuuri alone even when he promised to be there for him. His pallor complexion spoke volumes as nobody stopped him as he made his way out of the place.

 

The house was quiet. Makkachin was asleep. Fearing that Yuuri might be sleeping too, Viktor quietly placed his stuff onto the couch and went to their bedroom.

 

“I really don’t know if I could stay beside Viktor.” Viktor’s hands froze on the door. “It hurts.”

 

Yuuri’s words were as if a knife, each word sending a fatal stab into Viktor’s chest. He could hardly muffle his large gasp as he tried to breathe through the pain. _Yuuri wanted to leave?_

 

“If Viktor breaks this marriage, fake or not, I think I would die,” Yuuri whispered.

 

But Viktor heard none. The pain had numbed his senses and the only thing he could hear was the buzz in his ears. Viktor felt that he had enough. He was done trying to be understanding to Yuuri. He was done trying to show Yuuri his love to him. If Yuuri wanted to leave, fine by him, he fumed. He grabbed his overcoat and left.

 

Viktor never came back that night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was morning when Viktor finally returned. Yuuri sat at the couch in the living room, looking as if he had been awake through the night. Viktor snorted uglily. He could hardly bring out any empathy for that man.

 

“Viktor!” Yuuri called out when he saw the Russian. “Where have you been! I’ve tried to call and text you, but you did not reply. Yurio said you were not with him.”

 

Viktor ignored him and went into his spare room. He dragged out an empty luggage and rolled it to their bedroom. He threw open the cupboard and started to throw his clothes haphazardly into his luggage. Yuuri stood at the door.

 

“Vi-Viktor, what’s happening? Are you g-going somewhere?” An ugly vindictive smugness spread in Viktor’s chest when he heard Yuuri’s voice broke.

 

Viktor grew frustrated as he tried to zip his bursting luggage up. The zip refused to budge and Viktor’s fingers shook with growing resentment. It did not help that Yuuri’s cries grew louder and louder as he seemed to lost control.

 

Frustration blew past the tipping point and Viktor threw his luggage towards the bed. Clothes flew from the unzipped luggage.

 

“You don’t get to cry. Not after what you’ve done to me.” Viktor ran an aggravating hand through his hair as he faced Yuuri properly for the first time.

 

Yuuri was a mess. His hair was greasy and flat. Tears were flowing freely down his face, which fogged up his glasses. His chest heaved violently as he hiccupped through his sobs.

 

“You are leaving.” Yuuri hard sobs made it difficult for him to speak, but he managed.

 

“No, you want me to leave. I am just making it easier for you by moving out by myself.”

 

Yuuri whipped his head up in distraught. “I-I-I!” He wanted to speak, but the shock had numbed his tongue.

 

“I heard you yesterday. You said it hurts to be with me. You want to end this. Well, I’m sorry for bringing so much pain to you. So I shall just make myself scarce,” Viktor spat. He huffed at the mess his clothes made. _So be it. I’ll just buy new ones_.

 

Stepping over a strewn pair of jeans, Viktor walked out of the room. Yuuri panicked. Viktor had overheard his conversation and somewhere in his chaotic mind, it told him that VIktor had misunderstood. He wanted to say no but his vocals refused to work and Yuuri had never felt so desperate in his entire life. He turned around wildly and made a blind grab for Viktor’s hand. He missed the first time and more tears of frustration rolled down. He tried again and managed to catch Viktor’s wrist. As if Viktor’s wrist was the proverbial Spider’s Thread, he held on it tight.

 

Viktor winced as Yuuri’s hold on him was bordering pain. Twisting his wrist away was useless and he even tried prying Yuuri’s fingers off. But all was in vain. Yuuri tightened his grip, if that was even possible at all. Left with no other choices, Viktor stood standing at the doorway.

 

Yuuri’s harsh breaths softened when he realised that Viktor was not going to leave. His vice grip loosened just a slight fraction as he focused on getting his emotions under control. A small part of Viktor was relieved when he heard Yuuri breathing properly again, but a larger part of him was still hurt and angry.  

 

“I-I-I don’t want you to l-leave. I-I want to be to-together forever,” Yuuri managed between hiccups. “B-but you deserve so much be-better and more. Not me.”

 

Viktor slid onto the floor as all the fight left him. His arm hanged limply in Yuuri’s hold. “I think I should know better what I want.” Viktor’s voice was soft and weak. Yuuri’s heart ached painfully when he saw Viktor so fragile and tired. He dropped to the floor and he sobbed and talked. Of his insecurities, of his anxieties, of the pressure he had not shaken away since his defeat in the Grand Prix Final.

 

"You need to tell me these things. I don't read minds, Yuuri. I know you are not an open person, and I know that the Japanese culture does not encourage sharing thoughts, but Yuuri, some things are needed to be said out loud. This," Viktor waved his hand around vaguely, "if you have said something."

 

Yuuri made a noise of desperation. VIktor was missing the point. The point was not Yuuri bottling things up in him, it was how they could not and should not be together.

 

“We cannot continue this. Your reputation will be ruined if we keep this up. You will lose your sponsorships. Are you even aware of what people had started calling you in the internet?” 

 

"Yuuri, you can't just valiantly sacrifice yourself. This is not how a relationship work."

 

"But-"

 

"What is it that you really want? What do you really feel?" Viktor pressed.

 

"I want you to be happy."

 

"I'm happy when I'm with you."

 

"I want the best for you."

 

"You are the best thing could have happened to me. I love you."

 

"I love you too." Yuuri gasped and slapped both hands over his mouth. He backpedalled furiously until his back hit the door edge, which honestly was still within reach from Viktor. "You _tricked_ me."

 

"I was only trying to make you say what you really feel." Viktor buried his face into his hands and took a fortifying breath. “The confession I envisioned wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” Viktor admitted. If Yuuri looked closely, he would be able see the light blush over Viktor’s cheeks and the top of his ears.

 

“C-confession?”

 

“Yuuri. If you didn’t realise, I have been flirting with you since day one.”

 

“Flirt?” Yuuri’s short-circuited brain could only hand out one worded replies.

 

Viktor gave an exasperating sigh. “Did you- Did you just chalk my behaviour all the while as just me?”

 

Yuuri’s silence was as much as an answer.

 

“I don’t even touch Yurio that much!”

 

“Well, Yurio’s unique personality makes hugs a wee challenging.”

 

“Yuuri, stop making things difficult-“

 

“I’m not making anything difficult-“

 

“I love you.” Yuuri gaped. It was the second time Viktor had said it but the shock was still the same. “I am as attracted to you, as you are attracted to me,” Viktor pressed on. A strangled noise came out of Yuuri’s throat.

 

“Who says I’m attracted to you-“

 

“I want to be in this with you. Unless you don’t want to.” A slight tremor in Viktor’s voice was telling of the fear the Russian felt.

 

“I want to,” Yuuri gushed out as he held onto Viktor’s hand. “But your reputation, the people-“ The babbling skater was cut short with a hard gaze from Viktor coupled with the tight squeeze on his hand.

 

“I want to.” Yuuri affirmed. Viktor had never been so beautiful as he sent a smile so pure and happy to Yuuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aka how to write you deserves someone better than me in 101 ways
> 
> This... was honestly difficult for me to write because I am usually an optimistic person. Yuuri is such a talented skater but he put his ownself down so much that I sometimes want to smash his head against the wall so that he can truly see who he was. 
> 
> Done. No more angst. A deep bow to all angst writers. I cannot write angst. I'm gonna drown you guys with fluff from now on.


	13. Of cuddles, crazy skaters and colourful costumes

The day afterward was awkward. After the unplanned confession, Yuuri could not look at Viktor in the eyes. Viktor, being the bigger out of the two, graciously gave the Japanese man his breathing space.

 

Lunch was a quiet affair and Viktor did up the dishes afterwards. Yuuri thanked him gratefully, making it the second time they spoke after the confession. (The first was when Yuuri asked if Viktor was okay with grilled salmon with rice for lunch.)

 

The sun was hanging low in the horizon by the time the both of them migrated to the two ends of the couch for a movie. Howl’s Moving Castle was the last film of the Studio Ghibli marathon they had started.

 

Yuuri relaxed into the couch as the round tones of his native tongue filled the quiet hall. Before he knew it, he started to snuck glances at Viktor. He was wearing a pink oversized sweater that looked so soft and warm and Yuuri wondered what it would feel like to curl up on his lap. A pretty blush settled permanently on the Japanese’s face as his imagination ran a little wild.

 

Viktor had noticed the not-so-subtle glances Yuuri had been sending him. He pretended to be oblivious as the small sadistic part of him preened at the fidgeting skater at the other end of the couch. In the end, he could no longer deny the increasingly flustered man and turned to him.

 

“Cuddles?” he asked and held his arms open. Yuuri started and looked at him with his wide doe eyes.

 

“Do I smell?” Viktor made a face as he pretended to sniff at his pits. Yuuri did not need a second invitation as he barrelled into Viktor. The Russian had the breath knocked out of his chest from the violent hit.

 

“Sorry,” Yuuri mumbled as he borrowed further into Viktor’s embrace. It was even better than his imagination; it was warm and soft. And he felt safe. As if reading Yuuri’s mind, the silver-haired man hitched Yuuri higher on his lap, fully wrapping his arms around the man’s middle.

 

“Howl reminds me of you,” Yuuri murmured into Viktor’s chest as they watched the character went into a dramatic breakdown as his hair turned into a different shade than he wanted.

 

“Yuuri, I am a thousand times better looking than him,” Viktor miffed. And Yuuri laughed. Viktor was truly serious about his comment. And the fact that he dodged the jab at his dramatics made it even more hilarious.

 

“I think Howl’s really charming.”

 

“Yuuri, I am this close to pushing you down.” Viktor may sound threatening, but the arms around Yuuri said a different story.

 

The steady heartbeats of Viktor slowly lulled Yuuri into a slumber. He had not slept for the night and the emotional outburst he had earlier in the day had sapped the rest of his energy away. His eyes fluttered shut.

 

“Go to the rink with me tomorrow? Yakov gonna have my head for not being there today,” Viktor asked.

 

Yuuri, who was half-asleep, stiffened.

 

“Yuuri, you can’t cast impressions on people you don’t even talk to. My rink mates are nice people. Yurio is nice,” Viktor pointed out.

 

Yuuri could see how much Viktor wanted him to be there. For Viktor, he was willing to try.

 

“If they can put up with you, I’m sure they must be angels incarnate.”

 

Viktor did drop Yuuri into the white carpet on the floor for that unwanted comment. He laid on the fluffy carpet and reflected. He had promised Viktor that he would be more open with his feelings. Viktor had given so much to him, and Yuuri felt that it was his turn to prove his love for Viktor. He was going to make this relationship work.

 

Unable to contain the large grin that Viktor actually reciprocated his love for him, Yuuri quickly got up. He had a boyfriend to placate now.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

The rink was much more empty when Yuuri and Viktor got to it with just the Russian team on it. True to his words, Yakov launched a long lecture which Viktor hardly paid attention to. He was bubbling with euphoria when Yuuri allowed him to hold his hands in the rink. As Yakov continued to bark at Viktor, the Russian legendary skater swung the linked appendages up and down in the air.

 

“Just keep that fool in place,” Yakov turned to Yuuri when he realised Viktor was worse than usual. Yuuri stuttered out a yes before he realised that that was Yakov’s implicit acceptance of their new relationship. How Yakov knew, Yuuri really did not want to know. The episode had not aired yet.

 

“Viktor, you finally manned up,” A red-headed female skated towards them. Somewhere behind her there was a loud retching sound. Yuuri peeked around the girl to see Yuri mock heaved into the ice while Otabek was stoically clapping.

 

“Mila!” Viktor whined.

 

“Hi, we did not get to talk the day before,” Mila pouted. “I’m Mila, and I have a special skill.” She skated towards Yuri who was still vomiting ( _Where did he even get his drama genes?_ Yuuri narrowed his eyes at Viktor) and lifted the blonde teenager up easily.

 

“You hag, put me down! I said put me down! Otabek! Otabek!” Yuri screeched like a cat crossed. He tried to struggle in the air, as much as he could without hurting Mila with his sharp skates.

 

“I can teach you,” the hyper girl offered when she finally placed Yuri back on the ice. He immediately skated behind Otabek.

 

“Um, it’s okay. Thanks,” Yuuri stammered. He really did not want to die under Yuri’s skates.

 

“They are _knife shoes_ ,” Yuri hissed as he skated past him.

 

“You didn’t help,” he growled. Otabek merely shrugged.

 

“I’m glad you found someone, even if I didn’t,” A soft voice quietly sniffled at Yuuri’s left. He jumped and tightened his hand that was clasped around Viktor’s.

 

“Oh Georgi,” Viktor greeted nonchalantly at the sobbing skater. Yuuri’s brows were high up on his forehead. His rink mate was crying his guts out and nobody was offering comfort to the poor guy?

 

“Ah, don’t mind him. He’s been crying on the rink everyday since Anya broke off with him. We will be more alarmed if he didn’t cry.” Yuuri wanted to say that that was not normal at all, but who he was to judge.

 

A fleeting legendary figure skater who has the mentality of a five-year-old at times, a teenager whose emotions only consists of angry, a female skater who can lift people like they are cats and an emotional guy who cries every time he gets on ice. Yuuri sighed and looked in Yakov’s direction. _No wonder that guy’s hairline recedes faster than the start of a tsunami_.

 

“Yakov, help us choreograph our pair skate,” Yuri demanded.

 

“Why should I?”

 

“’Cause you’re my coach!”

 

“Am I now?” Yakov crossed his arms. “Ask your seniors.” Knowing that Yakov would not budge unless heeded to, Yuri turned begrudgingly to the rest of the Russian team.

 

“I suggest Ponyo,” Viktor spoke without prompting. Yuri turned to Mila next, not wanting to even waste a single breath on useless Viktor.

 

“Justin Bieber’s Baby. I remember those times you were so into the song, you were so cute!” Mila gushed.

 

“No one. No one gets to talk about this. Ever. Otabek, stop laughing. I can see your shoulders shaking.” Otabek’s face was stoic as usual, but his chest trembled under the force of silencing his laughter.

 

“Mariah Carey’s We Belong Together. _The pain reflected in this song ain't even half of what I'm feeling inside.  I need you, need you back in my life, baby. We belong together…_ ”

 

“Thank you, Georgi,” Viktor soothed as he led the once again weeping man to a corner.

 

“What do you have in mind?” Yakov asked when he realised his team was as useless as they always were.

 

“Eyes of a Tiger.” There was a flummoxed look in Yuri’s green orbs. Yakov sighed, as if he had expected that since the start.

 

“And you?” He turned to Otabek. The Kazakh had his back ramrod straight. He could not forget the stern eyes of the Russian coach five years ago, telling him that he was insufficient. “Yes, sir.”

 

“And what do you want to skate for the song.” Yakov had his attention back to his angsty protégé.

 

“So I want to do a _gwah_ and a _fwosh_ here. Then maybe we can do another _gwaph_ here.” Yakov nodded his head gravely as Yuri relayed his idea.

 

How even Yakov understood those onomatopoeias. Yuuri was so confused. He slowly back-skated away from the circle as the rest of the Russian team decided to be helpful finally and started to chip in pair skate ideas for Yuri and Otabek. More weird sounds starting coming out from the group of Russians and Yuuri made a decision. He will not consult their pair skate with the Russian team. _Over my dead body_.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“So have you got the costumes ready?”

 

“Have you chosen a song?”

 

JJ and Seunggil sat at opposite ends of the coffee table in their living room. The mood was serious and tense, as if they were negotiating for a big contract to build the next tallest building in New York.

 

A week ago, the couple were at a stalemate. Neither could agree to a song, nor a theme to their pair skate. They decided to brainstorm separately before coming together to share.

 

“I go first?” JJ asked and Seunggil nodded.

 

“Okay, so for the song I think going with my song- Wait, let me finish,” JJ hurriedly cut himself off when Seunggil opened his mouth. “There will be twist. Trust me.” He shot a grateful smile when the Korean settled back on the floor.

 

“And for costumes, I was thinking of this,” JJ continued and he picked up a white board that was sitting next to him all this while and turned it round for Seunggil. It was a hand drawn picture of JJ and Seunggil wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and their skates. It was a really cute caricature of the both of them and Seunggil would have paid more attention to the little details JJ included in the drawing if only he was not so flabbergasted.

 

“You want us. To be half-naked. On the ice. Skating.”

 

“Yeah, wouldn’t that be cool? I thought we could get you a tattoo on your lower back as well, to match mine. It could be temporary one. Like I can draw one for you,” JJ suggested excitedly as he caressed the pale unblemished back of Seunggil on his board.

 

“Besides the point that I would be a frozen block of ice before we even get to skate, JJ this is for a _children_ charity!” Seunggil cried. “And don’t even bring up tattoos, permanent or not.”

 

JJ gaped. He almost forgotten that it was for a children’s charity. Okay fine, who was he kidding. He forgot about it. He sat back down, like a dejected child being denied of his maple syrup.

 

“I was thinking that we could skate to Gangnam Style. The costumes were a little difficult to find because our skin tones are so different, but I managed to find one,” Seunggil enthusiastically gushed. He was really proud of himself to be able to find such a perfect outfit. He unlocked his phone and started swiping eagerly across the screen until he landed onto the picture he was looking for.

 

“This!” It was a frilly, rainbow-gradient top paired with a pair of normal black slacks.

 

“You want me to be a _parrot_ for my pair skate debut.”

 

It was fair to say, the discussion did not end well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT. 800 KUDOS. IF ONLY I CAN HUG EACH AND EVERYONE OF YOU HERE. AND ALL YOU LOVELIES THAT SPENT TIME TO COMMENT. I LOVE Y'ALL SO MUCH.
> 
> My dreamt to see Yurio skate to Eye of the Tiger. AHAHAHAHAHA. And I wonder how would a Hinata!Yurio would be. Sorry for the OOC. I cannot help it. And yes, Viktor is still not over Ponyo. AHAHAHAHA.
> 
> Headcanon that Seunggil has super bad fashion tastes and he only escaped JJ's notice by wearing nothing but black.


	14. Russians don't get colds

Both couples have agreed unanimously to continue on with the pseudo marriage. Yuri and Otabek did not have the choice given to them as they were still in the ‘getting to know each other’ phase. JJ and Seunggil continued simply because they finally managed to agree on the details for their pair skate and they did not want those painstaking efforts to go down a drain. Or that was what they told themselves. The usual short interview was _thrice_ as long for Yuuri as the poor boy was blushing and stammering so heavily throughout the entire time that it was almost difficult to understand him. There was subtitles for his part so that the audience was able to understand him better. Viktor was thankfully more composed than his boyfriend, but a permanent blush had settled comfortably on his face. The couple was clearly so besotted with each other that the fandom had a meltdown as finally their _one true pairing_ had finally set to sail. They even made a couple name for Viktor and Yuuri, ingeniously coined _Viktuuri_. And heralding that ship was Viktor himself.

 

To reward the ever expanding fandom, Viktor made it a point to post three pictures of either them or Yuuri. Viktor had amassed a huge collection of Yuuri since the first day and he finally had an avenue to spread the love for Yuuri. A sleeping Yuuri, a freshly-showered Yuuri, a sweaty Yuuri after practice at the rink.

 

Not wanting to lose out, Viktor’s every post was met with one from Phichit. The Thai skater was Yuuri’s best friend and he was not going to relinquish the position of being the closest to Yuuri so easily to Viktor, boyfriend or not. One of his many posts, was of Yuuri and Vicchan, both curling up against each other asleep on the green grass. And it was the post that had the most likes.

 

Viktor thought it was cheating. Photos with animals usually have a 1.5 times more likes than photos without animals and that was what he told Phichit. The competitive spirits were ignited in both of the skaters and suddenly a competition of who have the most likes on their Yuuri photo started.

 

Yuuri, the man in question, was snuggling comfortably with Makkachin on the loveseat, unbeknownst of the Yuuri Photo Competition. Viktor contemplated taking an artistic shot of Yuuri like this from the side. The _Earlybird_ filter would give the side shot a more lazy, less try hard (even though Viktor probably almost fell out of his seat to get the _correct_ angle) feel. It would be a winner. But Viktor did not really want to post that. After all, how different would this be from Phichit’s post. He gave a loud sigh. 

 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” At Viktor’s sigh, Yuuri left the loveseat to crawl into Viktor’s lap. Ever since they got to together (a lovesick smile plastered onto the equally lovesick face of Viktor every time he got reminded that they were together _together_ ), Yuuri started to initiate more contact. And it seemed that Viktor’s lap was his favourite place to seat, seeing as how he never failed to claim Viktor’s thighs whenever his lap was open.

 

“It’s… Nothing,” Viktor shook his head and snuck a kiss on Yuuri’s cheek. The prettiest blush blossomed from where Viktor’s lips touched Yuuri’s face. They had not gotten around talking about boundaries. Between the two, Viktor clearly had no boundaries at all. So it was up for Yuuri to test and explore. He had only started pecking Yuuri on the cheeks the day before when the adorable boy pirouetted from his spare room to the living room to announce that he had finally gotten back to his pre-Grand Prix weight.

 

Viktor suffered from a slight case of blue balls since Yuuri’s plump derriere was always on his lap. His shy and innocent touches fuelled his suffering further. It did not help that Chris filled his phones with innuendo-laden texts every time a new episode aired. Which means it happens on a weekly basis. But Viktor knew that Yuuri was inexperienced in this area. Additionally, Yuuri’s blushes whenever Viktor went a little further was honestly too cute to deny.

 

“This must be something that involves me,” Yuuri’s eyes narrowed as he observed Viktor carefully, “and Phichit.” Viktor occasionally wondered if being together caused Yuuri’s IQ to tripled.

 

“Who died and made you Sherlock Holmes,” he groaned.

 

“Mmm, Benedict is hot stuff.” There was a far away look in Yuuri’s brown orbs. He got a large jab from his jealous boyfriend.

 

“Yuuri, you love me more than Phichit right?”

 

“It’s different!”

 

“But you still love me more right!”

 

“What is it!”

 

“Yuuri, I want to win.”

 

And that was how Yuuri found himself looking at the hot tub steadily filling up with bubbles. Viktor had stripped him till his boxers. He even took off his glasses, so his entire world was a soft blur. Viktor upended almost half of his expensive lavender bath salts in the tub and Yuuri could feel the tension leave his body just from the scent alone. When the tub was suitably filled, Viktor gently urged Yuuri into the warm waters.

 

A loud sigh flowed out of Yuuri’s body as he immersed into the familiar heat. Viktor smiled when he saw Yuuri relaxed. They had not started practicing for the pair skate. Yuuri wanted to polish his jumps to perfection before they got to the choreography. Viktor’s skates were well-known to be of _Nikiforov_ level after all.

 

“The water’s good, huh.”

 

“Mediocre at best,” Yuuri haughtily proclaimed. “Nothing beats my family’s onsen.”

 

“We should go there one day.”

 

“You would?” Yuuri wadded across the tub to get to Viktor.

 

“Why not? I would love to meet your parents,” Viktor laughed when Yuuri’s eyes turned into hearts at his words.

 

“Now, get back to your previous position. We have work to do.”

 

“Why am I doing this again?” Yuuri complained but still went back and settled against the other end of the hot tub. Viktor perched on the porcelain tub beside him.

 

“Because you love me and I want to be Instagram famous.”  


“You have _I don’t know_ close to a million followers?”

 

“Says the one with 673,441 followers and you post like what? Once every two years?”

 

“Do I want to know why you know the number of followers I have down to the last digit?”

 

“Will it make you feel better?”

 

“No.”

 

Viktor tinkering laughter bounced off the marble tiles as he dipped his hand into the lavender-infused water. With the wet hand, he pushed Yuuri’s fringe up, the water acting as temporary gel and held the fine strands up. The steam was finally working and Yuuri’s fair cheeks held a healthy flush.

 

“Perfect. Hold that pose, Yuuri,” Viktor commanded as he hopped off from his perch to get to the other end of the tub so that he could get a straight view of Yuuri.

 

“Umm, what am I supposed to do again?”

 

“Look faraway,” Viktor commanded. Yuuri immediately tried to focus on the door behind Viktor.

 

“No, don’t squint.” Yuuri relaxed his brows from their pinched position.

 

“Now you look confused.” Yuuri rearranged his facial muscles, hoping that he looked relaxed by now.

 

“No, no, you seem dazed now.”

 

“Viktor!” Yuuri hit his hands onto the water and some of it splashed over the sides.

 

“Yuuri!” Viktor called after, his voice tinged with slight exasperation. The two of them stared at each other, unblinkingly.

 

“Okay okay, let’s try this,” Viktor tried again. “Think of something sexy.”

 

“Sexy?”

 

“Erotic. Like eros.”

 

Yuuri threw a baleful glare at the photographer-to-be. “I know what sexy is,” he sniffed. Thoughts and images flashed in Yuuri’s brains as he tried to think of something erotic. When he came to a point blank, he tried to approach it differently.

 

 _Erotic. Something that leads to a loss of rationality. What makes me become irrational?_ Yuuri pondered hard. His glazed eyes took upon a sharp gleam as his thoughts finally take form.

 

“I know,” he called out and Viktor puffed out his chest proudly.

 

“What is it!”

 

“Katsudon!” And Yuuri had never seen a man deflate faster than Viktor.

 

“K-katsudon?!?”

 

“Yeah, I lose all common sense when I see katsudon. I mean, how could you resist katsudon!” Viktor’s gaping mouth told him that the Russian did not share the same opinion as him with regards to the pork cutlet bowl.

 

“Okay,” Viktor breathed out, “I can work with this.” He looked at Yuuri again and asked, “Are you sure?”

 

“Dead sure.”

 

“Okay, think of katsudon now,” he directed. In a few seconds, Yuuri’s caramel brown eyes took on a glassy look. Viktor almost wanted to throw his phone out of the window when he saw how Yuuri reacted to a friggin’ pork cutlet bowl. But he had a competition to win and Viktor was a rational man. Most of the times.

 

“Think of how the runny egg clamours over the golden brown fried pork cutlet. How the egg spreads her fingers to encapsulate every inch of the pork,” the Russian pressed. _Was that a hitch in his breath?_ If Viktor could murder the pork cutlet bowls, he would.

 

Eyes glassy with a beautiful rosy hue that spreads down to his throat, Yuuri was a picture. Everything about the man screamed eroticism. Taking the opportunity, Viktor leaned forward to capture the moment. The off-focused bubbles in the photograph only served to accentuate the slight part of the thin pink lips, and the water droplets that dotted his bare throat and clavicle like diamonds. Viktor was sure he had the winning shot.

 

Excited to show Yuuri his work, Viktor hastily walked towards him only to slip on the puddle of water caused by Yuuri’s splash previously. Viktor’s loud shout broke Yuuri’s thoughts and he observe Viktor falling into the tub in slow motion.

 

The Russian was a mess. Most of his upper body was immersed in the water, with his legs dangling off the side. His face was dripping wet, eyes wide in evident shock. But most amazingly, despite the complete surprise, Viktor managed to get his phone out of the water. One of his hands stood high up in the air with his phone, and Yuuri was suddenly reminded of the Statue of Liberty. _A drowning Statue of Liberty_ , he snickered. He grabbed his phone which was at the side of the tub and quickly took a photo of Viktor.

 

“Yuuri!” Viktor whined when his boyfriend’s initial reaction was to take an embarrassing photo of him instead of helping him.

 

“No running in the onsen,” Yuuri dictated monotonously. “That’s the first rule of our onsen. Treat this as practice.” He laughed and splashed more water on an unmoving Viktor as he climbed out of the tub.

 

He took his towel and a change of clothes and entered the shower cubicle. When he got out, Viktor was still in the hot tub, as where he left him to be.

 

“Get out, or you’ll get a cold,” he admonished. He stood by the tub as he run a towel over his hair.

 

“Yuuri doesn’t care about me.”

 

“Oh, you big baby!” Yuuri sighed and pulled the uncooperating man out of the tub. Once he was sure Viktor was not going to throw himself back into the rapidly cooling rub, he left the bathroom.

 

“VIKTOR!” Viktor had trailed after Yuuri, leaving a trail of water behind him. The soaked man rubbed his head against Yuuri in an attempt to gain affection. They stood there for minutes until Yuuri threatened to kick Viktor out of their shared bedroom did he finally went to clean up.

 

 

 

 

 

“I am not accepting this,” Viktor whined as the couple laid on the bed at night.

 

“What?”

 

“This,” Viktor sniffed and shoved the phone into Yuuri’s face. It was Yuuri’s Instagram page and right at the top was the photo of Viktor falling in the tub.

 

“And?”

 

“Just look at the likes,” Viktor sniffed again. Yuuri rolled his eyes at his dramatic boyfriend and turned to the phone.

  
“Oh my god, 578,324 likes?!?”

 

“I only managed to get 434,394 likes for my Yuuri!”

 

“And Phichit?”

 

“410,948 likes!” Finally, there was a smile on Viktor’s face, which was followed by a sniff. Yuuri frowned a little at that.

 

“So I won this competition?” Yuuri teased as he returned the phone back to Viktor.

 

“Of course not. You rarely post. That’s why your post got such a great response. And it’s me. Pictures of me automatically gives you three times more likes that usual.” Viktor sneezed.

 

“You are not getting a cold, are you?” Yuuri asked worriedly and pressed a palm on Viktor’s forehead.

 

“No Russians get colds,” Viktor stated airily. He gently tugged Yuuri’s hand away from his face and held it.

 

“Again with your Russian stereotypes? And let go of my hands,” Yuuri laughed as he tried to wriggle his hand out. “I can’t sleep like this,” he tried again when Viktor refused to let his hand go.

 

“No-uh. I am not letting you escape from me forever.”

 

“Viktor!” Yuuri whined at the corny statement. He searched the room for one of those hidden cameras and looked straight at a black sphere he reckoned it was the camera. “I want to divorce my husbands on grounds that he doesn’t let me sleep.”

 

“Oh, I can think of ways to make you not sleep,” Viktor smirked as he rose from the bed. The blanket fell, revealing his bare chest. He sent a cheesy flying kiss to Yuuri and pulled the sheets over them.

 

“Viktor!” Yuuri screamed as the two struggled underneath the blankets. They wrestled for a few long minutes before Yuuri managed to extricate his head out of the blanket.

 

“Viktor, I really need to sleep. Tomorrow’s Yakov last day here and he actually promised to coach me for my last quad jump.”

 

“Yuuri, you have me. Five time Grand Prix Gold medallist, Word Championships and god knows how many European Championships I won as well. I can help you!”

 

“But Yakov’s the coach. He would know what to do with me better.”

 

“Whatever,” Viktor dismissed but he settled his head on Yuuri’s shoulders and snuggled.

 

“What are you now, Makkachin?” Yuuri laughed as he patted the silver hairs. The poodle who had dozed on the floor at the end of the bed perked up at the mention of his name. But she quickly flopped back to her original position when no further commands came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Viktor’s Russian stereotypes. They are always such a convenience to Viktor. 
> 
> And poor him. He really thought he would be Yuuri's eros inspiration. To think that he lost to katsudon...


	15. Viktor falls sick [1/2]

Yuuri knew it was bad news when he saw Viktor asleep. The man had a deep frown etched on his face while huffing tiredly. Yuuri placed his hand on the sleeping man’s forehead. Viktor was warm and Yuuri sagged slightly in relief as the fever was not as high.  

 

“So much for Russians not getting colds,” Yuuri chuckled as he tweaked Viktor’s nose. He got a soft whine in return. He pulled the blankets away from him and padded into the toilet. He returned with a damp towel and placed it gently on Viktor’s warm forehead.

 

“холодно,” Viktor whined. He swiped at the wet towel away and buried his head into the pillow, seemingly trying to escape from the cool towel.

 

“Huh? What was it?” Yuuri bent lower, trying to hear Viktor’s sleepy mumbles more clearly.

 

“холодно, холодно, холодно!”

 

“Alright, alright, I don’t get what you’re saying but this towel has to stay. You’re burning up,” Yuuri placated as he placed the damp towel once more on Viktor’s forehead. There were more whines but he did not resist the towel anymore.

 

Yuuri cast a last glance at Viktor before he left to wash up. He was almost done with his breakfast when Viktor stumbled into the kitchen.

 

“Yuuri, I don’t feel good,” Viktor wailed the moment he saw Yuuri. He shuffled as quickly as possible towards him and sat beside him.

 

“Yuuri,” he croaked and laid his head on Yuuri’s shoulder.

 

“That’s what you get for not listening yesterday,” Yuuri wriggled his shoulders.

 

“Mmm, don’t. Head. Pain. Very.” Yuuri laughed loudly.

 

“Here, have some porridge before you take your medicine.” The Japanese man pushed a bowl of porridge towards Viktor. He pulled a face at his meal.

 

“No.”

 

“Viktor.”

 

“No. It’s tasteless. I want katsudon.” Viktor pushed his bowl away and shook his head vehemently. Yuuri was suddenly reminded of Mari when she was young and sick. She had upended an entire bowl of soup because their mother refused to let her have her chocolates due to her horrible sore throat.

 

“Viktor, come on.”

 

“No. Unless…”

 

“Unless?”

 

“Yuuri feeds me!” Viktor brightened up at that thought. He sat at the stool, eyes and mouth forming hearts. Yuuri sighed. Viktor was such a child when sick, and yet he was not surprised at the revelation. _Why indeed_.

 

He spooned the porridge and held it in front of Viktor. The Russian shook his head.

 

“Hot.” Yuuri raised a brow at Viktor’s unspoken request. He decided to humour him anyway. He blew at the spoon lightly before he fed Viktor.

 

“Vkusno!” Yuuri shook his head at the childish display, part fond part exasperated. It took almost an hour for Viktor to finish the bowl of porridge, between Yuuri’s gentle promptings and blowing on his food.

 

“Shit, I’m late!” Yuuri exclaimed when he saw the time.

 

“Oh, Yakov won’t be happy,” Viktor added. He got a soft shove for his unwanted comment.

 

“Yakov adds one extra lap for every minute late. But because he likes me, I am exempted from punishment.”

 

“More like you whine and pout your way out of it.”

 

“The amount of faith you have in me hurts me.” Viktor placed a hand on his chest. “But aren’t you going to make a move? Yakov doesn’t like you as much as he likes me.”

 

“But… But I can’t just leave you here,” Yuuri hesitated.

 

“I’m a grown man, Yuuri.”

 

“Doesn’t seem like one to me right now.”

 

“No matter how great your stamina is, you won’t be able to withstand Yakov’s death punishment. It’s called death for a reason!” Viktor exclaimed and shooed Yuuri to the door.

 

Having no choice, Yuuri picked up his training gear and laced his shoes up.

 

“Don’t forget to eat your medicine,” he reminded once he got to the door.  
  
“Yeah, yeah.”

 

Yuuri tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the lift to arrive. He was reluctant to part with Viktor. There was just this nagging feeling that Viktor would not eat his pills. But on the other hand, he really wanted to train with Yakov for the day. He scrunched his face up in annoyance as he glanced at the closed door again. The lift opened its door and Yuuri turned towards his door. With a grit of his teeth, he stepped into the lift and descended.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Viktor sprawled across the sofa in the living room. The pills Yuuri had got for him was untouched on the bar counter. He heaved the blanket that he brought from their bed higher up, until only his head was left poking out. He slipped into a light slumber until the door opened with a loud bang.

 

“Where the fuck are you”?

 

“Yuri! He might be sleeping,” Otabek shushed the grousing teenager quickly.

 

They quickly found the sick man slumbering on his couch.

 

“Eh, have you died yet,” Yuri asked as he kicked the couch. Viktor’s distressed whimpers grew in volume as he shook in tandem with Yuri’s kicks.

 

“Where are your pills?”

 

Viktor muttered something.

 

“Huh?! No one here has the hearing of a fucking mosquito, Viktor,” Yuuri growled.

 

“He said he ate it,” Otabek piped up.

 

“No, he didn’t. He is a big ass baby that does not eat his pills unless there’s a gun to his head.”

 

The two left Viktor to be be as they went to hunt for the pills. They quickly found it lying on the bar top. Yuri shot a smug look at Otabek.

 

“I need backup,” Yuri frowned hard and looked at the uncooperative body laid on the couch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Your free leg is so sloppy that my eight-year-old skaters are crying. Straighten that damn leg. You are going to keep doing your quad flips until I am satisfied,” Yakov hollered when Yuuri turned to him for advice once he landed his quad flip. The Russian coach hardened his face as he waited for the usual onslaught of shouts and insults.

 

“Yes! I’m so sorry! I will pay more attention to my free leg! I’m so sorry,” Yuuri apologised as he bowed numerously at Yakov. Yakov’s face grew red.

 

“Boy! Are you mocking me now?”  


Yuuri jumped like a startled cat.

 

“No, no, no! I’m just- I’ll start jumping now,” Yuuri quickly amended and went for his jumps.

 

“Better! Now jump with more confidence. Stop folding yourself in. I don’t eat humans,” Yakov called out as Yuuri landed jumps after jumps.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“It says here to add a pinch of salt into the mixture,” JJ read from his phone. He stared at the container containing salt and frowned. _What does a pinch means exactly? A two-finger pinch? Three-finger pinch?_

 

That was how Seunggil found JJ in the kitchen, making grabby fingers at the salt.

 

“What’s up?” He called as he poured a cup of coffee and drank it.

 

“I’m trying to figure out what does a pinch of salt means,” JJ replied, not talking his eyes off the salt. Seunggil snorted that adorable snort of his into his coffee. He nudged JJ away with his hips and sprinkled the salt into the egg mixture.

 

“What? What? Again, I didn’t catch that,” JJ pestered as he stared all wide-eyes at the salted egg mixture.

 

“It’s going to be real salty if I do it again.”

 

JJ pouted. “Why do you make cooking so effortless? I would rather do triple axels all day.”

 

“Cooking takes patience and sincerity.” Seunggil had taken over the stove naturally as he poured the egg mixture into the pan. Using the spatula, he managed to remove stray piece of eggs shells as the omelette cooked.

 

“Then you cook for me forever.”

 

“I’ll need more incentive then,” Seunggil teased as he flipped the egg. It was a beautiful golden brown.

 

“I’m the one bringing Taepoong out for walks these days,” JJ prompted. Before Seunggil could argue otherwise, their doorbell rang. The Korean man nodded his head towards the door and JJ trudged reluctantly towards it, muttering a “slavedriver” under his breath.

 

Otabek was at the other side of the door and JJ was surprised. They had never exchanged words out of “all the bests” and “congratulations”.

 

“… Can I help you?” JJ asked politely.

 

“Actually, yes. I need your help,” Otabek confessed sincerely. JJ turned back to look into his house before thinking that he could spare a few minutes for the quiet Kazakh. He nodded his head and stepped out of his house.

 

“I would need Seunggil’s help as well, I’m afraid,” Otabek continued when he realised that only JJ was going to help him. “Please.”

 

“Give me a moment.” JJ padded into his house again. Seunggil had already plated the omelette.

 

“Babe, Otabek needs our help.”

 

“Huh? For?”  


“I don’t know? But he seemed to be a small hurry. Come on,” JJ urged and he placed his hands on the Korean’s shoulders, pushing him towards the door.

 

“But- My egg!”

 

“That can wait.”

 

Otabek nodded his head gratefully at the couple when JJ and Seunggil appeared. Both of them raised their eyebrows when Otabek led them to the unit opposite theirs.

 

“Viktor, stay _still_!” Yuri’s frustrated shout rang through the apartment.

 

Seunggil glued his entire front against JJ’s back when they saw Viktor being restrained on a chair. Mila and Georgi was each seated on Viktor’s feet while Yuri sat on Viktor’s lap to prevent him from leaving the chair.

 

There was tears of salvation sparking in Yuri’s eyes when he saw JJ and Seunggil.

 

“Quick,” he managed to squeak as he held onto Viktor as if his life was dependent on it.

 

“No, I don’t want pills!” Viktor struggled.

 

“I need each of you to hold one of Viktor’s hand,” Otabek instructed. JJ took Viktor’s right hand while Seunggil took the left hand and they held it against the back of the chair.

 

“Finally!” Yuri slumped onto Viktor, energy drained, and wobbled out of his lap. He nodded towards Otabek who immediately held onto Viktor’s chiselled jaw, forcing the poor Russian to open his mouth.

 

“Ah go wan pees!” Viktor garbled through his open mouth.

 

Yuri took a deep breath and gave a nod to everybody. Mila and Georgi tightened their hold on Viktor’s legs. JJ and Seunggil followed suit.

 

“Viktor, you need to eat your pills!” was the only warning Viktor got as Yuri placed all four pills into his mouth. He poured a little water into the still open mouth and Otabek let go of Viktor’s jaws. Left with no other choices, Viktor clenched his eyes and swallowed the pills reluctantly. The human restraints on him magically disappeared once they were certain that the pills were swallowed.

 

“Meanie,” Viktor sobbed as he tried to curled up on the hard dining chair. With Otabek’s help, Georgi and Mila managed to carry the sobbing mess and transferred him onto the much more comfortable sofa.

 

“Thanks guy,” Mila started once she got her breaths under control. “Viktor is a menace when he’s sick. If possible, can you please stay with us? The four of us is no match against him.”

 

JJ looked at Seunggil who shrugged his shoulders. “Sure!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Stop wasting my time if your mind is not in here,” Yakov barked when Yuuri wavered at his eighth quad flip.

 

“I’m sorry. It’s just that Viktor is sick at home and I can’t help to worry.”

 

“What? Vitya is sick?” Yakov leaned into the rink.

 

“He’s running a fever. But I got him pills before I left!” Yuuri reassured at Yakov’s worried frowns.

 

“Pills won’t make it. Vitya hates pills.” Yuuri tilted his head confusedly.

 

“Vitya’s like a child when he’s sick. Pills are a no-no for him,” Yakov explained. At Yuuri’s panicked look, Yakov sighed.

 

“Boy, call Yuri to look after him.”

 

“I did before I came here.”

 

“Then Vitya would be fine. The Russian team plays nanny far more times than me when Vitya falls sick,” Yakov elaborated when Yuuri seemed unpersuaded.

 

“Now’s not the time to worry about him. Boy, jumps, now!”

 

“Yes!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“The meds are supposed to be drowsy.”

 

“He isn’t showing any inclinations of sleep at all.”

 

“He needs to sleep.”

 

They stared at Viktor. He had put up a huge ruckus when Georgi attempted to put him to bed. The damp towel was thrown on the floor when Mila attempted to put it on his forehead. Seunggil had to go back to his house to grab his stick-on fever patches and slapped it on the fidgety man.

 

“I give up. He can suffer from his fever and burn all his brain cells. See if I care,” Yuri spat and sprawled on the floor. Makkachin nosed her way into Yuri’s chest and the teenager cuddled into the dog. Otabek settled easily beside the boy and patted his head comfortingly. Mila and Georgi had disappeared somewhere into the depths of the house.

 

“I’m hungry,” JJ whined into Seunggil’s shoulders.

 

“Shall we raid their kitchen?” Seunggil whispered conspiratorially. They shared a secret conniving nod and went into the kitchen. They found some leftover pizza and threw it into the microwave.

 

They settled quickly on the bar counter and devoured the piping hot pizza. As they were half-way through their food, Mila and Georgi exited from one of the rooms, giddy with happiness.

 

“I told you he would have at least one with him,” Mila crowed smugly as she cradled a bottle of vodka lovingly in her arms. Georgi nodded his head.

 

“Viktor, I have something for you,” Mila cooed as she settled beside Viktor, with Georgi flanking the other side. She opened the vodka with such ease that was telling of her experience and passed the open bottle to Georgi.

 

“Come, drink up,” Georgi said as he pressed the bottle to Viktor’s lips.

 

“You can’t feed an ill person vodka!” JJ shouted and sprung out of his chair. He snatched the vodka bottle away before Viktor could drink. He got a whine from Viktor for that.

 

“Why not? Vodka is the solution to everything.” The look Mila gave JJ convinced the French-Canadian that the Russian girl truly believed in that.

 

JJ looked for Otabek for support, his only rock of sensibility in this mess. He almost threw the bottle in anguish when he saw the two youngest curled up on the floor, fast asleep.

 

“Seunggil, help,” he turned to his partner in desolation. The Korean pursed his mouth in slight annoyance but he left the bar. He fiddled with the television until a cartoon started to play.

 

“Ponyo?” JJ cried and almost fell over when he saw Viktor looking at Seunggil as if he was God. They were not even a quarter way through the movie when Viktor finally, finally slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It goes to say that all Russian are courtesy of Google Translate. Certain Russian words were romanised instead of in Cyrillic to show that Yuuri understood those words. 
> 
> Viktor is a living nightmare to any doctors. And he is never going to stop loving Ponyo.
> 
> Oh right, I'm trying to do a chapter of them reacting to an episode of the 'show'. Any suggestions as to which chapter I should pick for the reaction material?


	16. Viktor falls sick [2/2]

Yakov followed Yuuri back home on qualms that Yuuri had hurt his ankle and Yakov insisted that he would only have a peace of mind if he sees Yuuri home. Yuuri said nothing, but he knew that Yakov was secretly worried for Viktor. His ankle only had a slight twinge that Yuuri would not even feel unless he paid attention to it.

 

Yuuri went home to Viktor watching a Russian soap opera that seemed to be from the eighties. The familiar yet foreign language filled the living room softly. Yakov insisted that the soap opera was his mother’s favourite when Yuuri looked at him when he said the title out.

 

“Yuuri,” Viktor whispered happily when he saw his favourite person.

 

“Slumber party?” Yuuri laughed when he surveyed the apartment.

 

Georgi had rolled himself into a ball, tucked into Viktor sides while Mila turned Viktor’s lap into pillow. Yuri and Otabek sat cross-legged on the carpet, leaning against each other as they watched the soap opera quietly with Viktor. JJ was sprawled over the small loveseat with Seunggil snoring lightly on him.  

 

The blinds were drawn across the windows, blocking most of the late afternoon sun away from the living room. Yakov ambled his way towards Viktor and removed the fever reliever patch from his forehead. Viktor yowled quietly at the rough treatment and Yuuri stifled a chuckle. Yakov was muttering Russian to Viktor while touching his forehead to cope a feel of his temperature. Viktor pouted his way throughout and only stop whining when Yakov ran a hand across his head, massaging lightly into his scalp.

 

Yuuri stood at the side, not wanting to intrude on the intimate moment. Yakov was so much like the gruff father with Viktor as the whiny spoilt child that said gruff father could never say no too.

 

Yakov shoved Georgi down from the couch so that he can sit on it. Yuuri was shocked at first until he realised that Georgi was already awake and only pretended to be asleep so that he could keep his seat. Georgi’s loud yelp set off a chain reaction, and soon everybody was more or less awake. Mila had got off the sofa and sat beside Yuri to disturb the teenager. Yuri sent a beautiful ferocious growl to Mila and crawled across Otabek’s lap to get to the other side of the man. Mila stuck her tongue out and rested her head on the Kazakh’s shoulder. She got sent flying with a well-aimed kick from Yuri.

 

Yuuri quickly took the seat that Mila evacuated.

 

“Are you feeling okay?”

 

“Perfectly peachy,” Viktor smiled.

 

“You’ve recovered fast.”

 

“It’s a Russian thing.”

 

Yuuri laughed.

 

“Ooi pig, I’m hungry.”

 

A round of democratic voting had lead to the choice of Chinese takeaways. Yakov tersely handed over the bills to the delivery boy, much to Yuuri’s surprise as the boy had planned to pay for the dinner as thanks for looking after Viktor. The skaters huddled around the small coffee table, chatting as they ate. Seunggil sneaked his beansprouts and cabbage from his chow mein into JJ’s teriyaki chicken rice when the man got into another banter with Yuri.

 

“Eat your vegetables,” JJ chided when he saw his rice piled high with the beansprouts and cabbage.

 

Seunggil made a face and snatched a piece of the chicken with his chopsticks.

 

“Damn Koreans and their crazy chopstick skills,” JJ swore. Another piece of chicken got stolen for his comment.

 

“Yuuri has crazy chopstick skills as well,” Viktor piped. Yuuri paused midway of transferring those round frozen green peas from his fried rice into Viktor’s plate.

 

“They should have a competition. With Yurio to act as the control,” JJ suggested.

 

“Fuck you.” Yuri immediately threw his disposable fork and spoon towards JJ and picked up the wooden sticks. He picked at his noodles with anger-fuelled motivation. The noodles slipped through the loosely-held chopsticks and one side of the chopsticks fell onto the table at Yuri’s second attempt.

 

Before Yuri could chuck his chopsticks away in irritation, warm hands encased his right hand. Yuuri deftly rearranged the teen’s fingers around the chopsticks.

 

“Now try again.”

 

Yuri looked at the Japanese man hesitatingly before he turned to his noodles. With renewed vigour, Yuri picked his noodles. This time, the noodles was ensnared tightly between his chopsticks and he beamed proudly at Yuuri.

 

“Yuuri, help!” Viktor threw his fork away in a small jealousy fit and picked up Yuuri’s used chopsticks. Yuuri sighed but quickly manoeuvred Viktor’s long fingers around the two sticks of wood.

 

Viktor dug into his food with gusto only to have his chopsticks crossed and the beef falling back to his plate.

 

“Yuuriiii,” he whined.

 

“We should get Viktor and JJ compete against each other since the both of them are so bad at this,” Mila said as she picked at her tofu.

 

Yuri cackled loudly above Viktor’s and JJ’s disagreement. Yakov shooed the noisy crew to the kitchen as they were disturbing him from the Russian soap opera that was still playing on the television. They quickly finished up their food and went into the kitchen.

 

Yuuri got out two bowls and poured a decent amount of black beans into each bowl.

 

“Whoever gets the most beans across wins,” Yuuri explained as he placed another two empty bowls beside the bowls with beans.

 

“Yuuri, there’s a higher chance of me getting gold for the next Grand Prix Final than me getting even one across,” Viktor exclaimed as he stared at the round, smooth beans.

 

“I can write and produce an entire new song faster than me picking up all the beans across,” JJ declared lifelessly.

 

“Oh hush, there’s less than forty beans in here,” Seunggil huffed.

 

“Songgee, you have to help me,” JJ turned to Seunggil earnestly.

 

“You are hopeless,” Seunggil teased without heat as he picked up a pair of chopsticks.

 

“Bend your index finger at fifty degrees and your middle finger at ninety degrees. Curl the rest of your fingers in,” Seunggil started to instruct with his usual precision. JJ could only stare at Seunggil’s pretty fingers and twists his digits accordingly.

 

Things were not going smoothly at Yuuri and Viktor’s.

 

“How is it that you can summon enough strength to land a quad flip, but not enough to pick up a bean with chopsticks?” Yuuri looked at Viktor a little helplessly.

 

After ten gruelling minutes of coaching, Seunggil gave up and started the competition. It was a tiring sight to witness honestly. They only managed to pick up a bean after every ten fruitless tries. And even when they picked up the bean, it was quickly lost to the ground as they tried to move it to the next bowl. There were beans littered everywhere on the floor but the empty bowl where the beans were supposed to be remained empty.

 

“This is so painful to watch,” Yuri commented between chews of his chips.

 

“Yurio, where did you get those chips?” Yuuri suddenly asked.

 

Yuri looked at the Japanese skater a little weirdly before he nodded towards the last drawer of the kitchen cabinet. Yuuri was beside the drawer in a blink of an eye and opened it. In the drawer contained a few packs of potato chips.

 

Yuuri made a sobbing noise as he surveyed his drawer.

 

“Of all flavours, you actually chose the limited edition mentaiko orange caramel potato chips that I had literally begged Minako to ship it here to me?” Yuuri looked at Yuri with such dead eyes as he strangled whispered.

 

Yuri shrugged as he popped another chip into his mouth. The horrified gasp that Yuuri made would make others think that Yuri had murdered his parents. He leaped towards the Russian teenager and swiped the bag away. He cradled the pack carefully, with actual tears rolling down his cheeks when he realised there was only half a bag left.

 

Yuri stuck his tongue to Yuuri but otherwise made no attempts to get the chips back. The flavour was not exactly to his taste buds.

 

“Yuuri.” Viktor’s unusually stern voice got Yuuri out of his self-pity.

 

“V-Viktor, I-I can explain!”

 

“I am so disappointed in you, Yuuri,” Viktor shook his head.

 

Yuuri’s face was a deathly pale as he tried to explain his situation.

 

“Listen Viktor, this is a limited edition flavour. And when I say limited edition, there are only eight hundred bags of this flavour. Every bag has an identification number-“

 

And it was during the midst of the chaos, when JJ successfully got a black bean over to the empty bowl.

 

“With that I declare that JJ is the winner,” Seunggil hurriedly ended the competition.

 

“What?” Viktor whipped his head at the announcement.

 

Seunggil had the blankest look he had on his face while JJ had a most infuriating smirk on.

 

“That was unfair,” Viktor pointed out.

 

The winning couple shrugged.

 

“I was sick. So this round doesn’t count,” Viktor tried again and he sniffed twice for good measures.

 

Seunggil and JJ pretended not to hear that.

 

“So what does the winner get?” Otabek asked. JJ perked up at that.

 

Yuuri scooped all the black beans into a single bowl, including those on the floor.

 

“A bowl of black beans.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s assume that Russians don’t eat with chopsticks. (Even though they do when they dine at a Chinese/Japanese restaurant. Yes, I actually Googled to check if Russians eat with chopsticks or not.)
> 
> And Seunggil’s not above small tricks to ensure that JJ wins. 
> 
>  
> 
> Really, really sorry for the late update. Life had been a bitch. AND OMG, MY FIC IS INCHING TOWARDS 1000 KUDOS. (of course, this is totally not a call for more kudos. Totally... Not....)


	17. Cotton Candy

Spring, a season full of vitality and new beginnings. Many people loved Spring, but not Seunggil. Seunggil absolutely detested, abhorred, hated Spring.

 

“Nice shades,” JJ whistled as Seunggil trotted into the kitchen. He silently poured a cup of life-sustaining coffee and plopped onto the counter, across JJ.

 

“Really cool shades.”

 

Seunggil upended the entire mug in a single shot.

 

“I mean, whoa. I can totally see my handsome face reflected on your lenses,” JJ cooed, not even the slightest bit discouraged over Seunggil’s reticence. He leaned over the counter top so that he can look at his reflection better over Seunggil’s reflective sunglasses.

 

“You look like a Kpop star, Songgee. Sing me a song, _oppa!_ ”

 

Seunggil rolled his eyes, hidden behind his shades. Some time ago, JJ seemed to make it a point to get to know his culture better. Normal people would start from picking up the Korean Language and its history. But no, JJ is far from being normal. He jumped straight into K-Pop and K-Drama. Normal people would learn greeting phrases or a stray noun or two. But no, JJ picked up _Gwiyomi_. Seunggil awoke one day to JJ counting to six in honeyed tones beside him on the bed. He cringed at the memory, whether it was due to JJ’s garbled pronunciation, or the fact that the man had tried to act cute to him with his majestic bedhead and morning breath… In fact, Seunggil had given up trying to correct JJ and his Korean; he insisted to refer Seunggil as _oppa_ even though he had told him a thousand and one times that _oppa_ is used to refer to older males _by females_ and that JJ should call him _hyung_ instead.

 

“But really, what warrants the shades the moment you wake up,” JJ pressed.

 

“Hay fever,” Seunggil grumbled. To prove his point, Seunggil slid his shades down to reveal his red and puffy eyes.

 

“Ouch,” JJ whispered reflexively. “Wait here.”

 

Seunggil shrugged and poured another cup of coffee. JJ was soon back at the bar top. He handed an eye drop over.

 

“What’s this.”

 

“Eye drop for hay fever.”

 

“You have hay fever?”

 

“Nah, I don’t. But I always get one during the season. You never know when someone around me needs one,” JJ winked at him.

Seunggil sighed but quickly applied the eye drops over his sensitive eyes.

 

“I’m not leaving the house till Spring is over,” the Korean skater grumbled.

 

“What are you talking about? We have to be at the local skating rink later. Remember?”

 

“What local rink?”

 

“You know, we, as the faces of figure skating. We shoulder the mission of spreading the love and passion of figure skating,” JJ puffed his chest out in pride.

 

“Isn’t that Nikiforov’s duty, the living legend of the skating world?”

 

“And for that, I’m confiscating the eye drop.” JJ swiped the eye drop off the bar top before Seunggil had any chance to react.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Yuuri.”

 

“Yuuuri.”

 

“Yuuuuuuuuuuuuuri.”

 

Viktor sighed. His precious had ignored him the entire morning and Viktor felt like he would die right away if Yuuri were to ignore him for a second longer.

 

“I am truly, honestly, from the deepest part of my heart, sorry!” Viktor mewled sadly beside Yuuri. The Japanese did not even spare a second glance at the almost grovelling man as he continued to scrub the plates and pots.

 

“L-let me take it from here,” Viktor offered and tried to grab the soapy sponge from Yuuri’s hands. He received a harsh hip check for his unwanted efforts.

 

“You had your chance last night.”

 

Yuuri wiped his hand dry with the dish towel after he placed the last plate on the drying rack. Viktor trailed after him into the room.

 

“Yuuri, where are you going? Are you leaving me because I didn’t do the dishes like I promised last night? Are you leaving me for good? Forever? Are-are you bringing Makkachin with you as well. I will miss Makkachin, but since she likes you more… I guess…” Viktor mumbled when he saw Yuuri getting out clothes from the closet.

 

Yuuri threw a sweatshirt at Viktor.

 

“We are going to be a one-day coach at the local rink remember, Mr I-forgot-to-do-the-dishes-last-night?”

 

“Oh right!” Viktor brightened like an LED bulb. “I know you love me too much to leave me!” Viktor glomped Yuuri one more time before heading to the bathroom to change.

 

Yuuri sat on the bed and turned to look at one of the obscure cameras pinned to one of the many standing lampposts around.

 

“I was promised a husband if I agreed to join this programme. I gained a child instead. I feel cheated. I demand a refund,” Yuuri uncharacteristically deadpanned as he stuck a hand out in front of the camera, as if wanting compensation.

 

 

 

 

 

The rink was filled with childish babbles and squeals, which the six skaters were not accustomed to hear. The local rink had graciously lent their beginner and intermediate skaters to the programme in an effort to promote ice skating in the city. They also wanted to take the chance to motivate these young skaters in pursuing a professional ice skating career.

 

“I’d rather Yakov’s rabid screaming,” Viktor mused pensively. Yuri nodded his head. His usual frown seemed deeper than usual. And if not for Otabek at his side, Yuuri was sure Yuri would have looped off all the children’s heads.

 

“Seunggil, stop!” Viktor halted the Korea, before he peered into the Korean’s reflective shades. He made sure not a single strand of his silver hair was out of place and winked at Seunggil. “Thanks.”

 

“I feel personally violated,” Seunggil croaked.

 

“Come here, baby,” JJ cooed and enveloped Seunggil into his arms, pressing the man’s face into his chest. Seunggil squawked a little initially, but remained unmoving nonetheless.

 

The six figure skaters stood awkwardly on the ice, none of them wanting to get near the children. Filming was slightly delayed when they realised that only two of the filming crew could skate. They had to get permission from the rink’s management to get the rest of the crew fitted with special shoes so that they would be able to move on the ice.

 

There’s were fifteen odd children skaters on the ice and it was easy to distinct between the intermediate and the beginner skaters. They were mostly intermediate skaters, ranging from preteens to around sixteen years old. Yuuri noticed there were only three really young skaters. He pegged them not more than six years old, fumbling around their skates like new-born fawn. 

 

Once the final camera crew was on the ice with the special shoes that allowed them some modicum balance on the slipper ice, filming started. The professional ice skaters did not even get to introduce themselves when the skaters launched at them. Or more specifically, Viktor and Seunggil.

 

Most of the boys migrated towards Viktor, asking and begging him to teach them the secret behind quad flips. While surprisingly, the girls flocked towards the reticent Korean skater.

 

“Oppa!”

 

“Your skin looks so good. What Korean beauty tricks do you use?”

 

Or maybe not surprising, given the widespread of Kpop worldwide. Unable to withstand the shrieks and the lovesick gazes, Seunggil tried to skate to the other end of the rink. The trove of girls followed him loyally.

 

“I’ll just… Go with Songgee in case he starts a mass murder,” JJ informed Yuuri, Yuri and Otabek before skiing after his partner.

 

“That was rather nice of him,” Yuuri said.

 

“The only thing nice about him is his Canadian nationality,” Yuri spat.

 

“He gave you that bottle of maple syrup that you chugged down half of it within two days,” Otabek shrugged.

 

“Otabek, you-!” Before Yuri could retort, a light touch on his calf. He turned to look down to see a boy looking up at him with a magnificent scowl.

 

“What-“

 

“I give you permission to coach me,” the boy haughtily announced, the scowl on his forehead not lessening a bit.

 

“What the f-“ A loud cough from Otabek interrupted Yuri.

 

“Language.” Otabek gave a pointed nod at the boy who was still clinging onto Yuri determinedly.

 

Yuri gave a quick scan of the boy. The boy was wrapped warmly in a leopard printed fleece shirt. Yuri quickly approved the boy’s dress sense.

 

“Because I shall be nice today and allow you to see me practice,” Yuri arrogantly stated and started to skate away. As he skated, he turned to look behind as if beckoning the boy over. The leopard-printed boy quickly wobbled after him.

 

“Reminds us of someone, don’t he?” Otabek mused as they observed Yuri correcting the boy’s form passive aggressively.

 

Otabek went after Yuri, with a small little girl trailing after her. She was definitely new to ice skating as she slipped after every three steps. Yuuri almost skied after her if he did not see the way the girl looked at Otabek.

 

“Otabek!” Yuuri called out to warn the Kazakh. Otabek turned confusedly, cocking his head to the side.

 

“The girl.” At Yuuri’s words, Otabek looked down to see the smallest girl trying to reach him. Every step she took was accompanied by a small step back by Otabek. Yuuri rose his brows.

 

“Umm, Otabek. I think she needs a little help,” Yuuri gently prompted when the girl fell again.

 

“Yuuri, I’m not good with kids,” Otabek conceded quietly, although his eyes were slightly blown in panic.

 

Yuuri was surprised. Given how well Otabek could handle Yuri, Yuuri had assumed Otabek was a natural with kids. The distance between Otabek and the little girl grew as Otabek continued to skate backwards. Yuuri could see how conflicted he was. For if he did not care for the girl, he would have skated off. Yet, Otabek was still sort of hanging around the girl.

 

“Yuuri, I can’t. Can you take her please?” Otabek pleaded.

 

Yuuri almost agreed when the girl fell onto the ice spectacularly. Otabek was right beside her in an instant. He felt around the girl’s knees and ankles.

 

“Does it hurt?”

 

The girl remained silent, but shook her head otherwise.

 

Otabek looked at the girl, while the girl held the eye contact with sleepy eyes.

 

“Fine, fine.” He slightly groused as he set the girl back on the ice.

 

“Come on,” he urged with a hand around the girl’s arms. He quickly realised it was an awkward position for him and hauled the girl over his shoulders.

 

Knowing that Otabek was okay with the little skater, Yuuri glanced around the rink. Viktor was doing a marvellous job at entertaining the small little circle of fanboys with an easy execution of triple salchow while JJ was providing commentary to Seunggil’s small group of skaters as Seunggil demonstrated. Yuri and his leopard boy was screaming over each other, but Yuuri was not particularly affected as Otabek had stood near Yuri with the little girl resting her chin over Otabek’s head. He trusted that the stoic Kazakh would rein Yuri in if he went too far.

 

He was about to skate around on his own when he spotted a skating cotton candy. She was wrapped in an overly large baby pink sweater with strawberry-printed leggings and she was the most adorable thing Yuuri had seen.

 

It takes one to know one as when Yuuri skated towards her, he realised that she was anxious. Yuuri was afraid that she would ruin her lovely sweater if the angel were to wring her hands even tighter into the knits. He skated towards her, but he was not fast enough as a huge sneeze sent the little cotton candy sprawling against the ice.

 

Yuuri quickly scooped the little girl up, dusting any errant shreds of ice off her clothes. The girl’s face flushed prettily.

 

“T-thank you,” the accent was thick and familiar.

 

“ _Are you Japanese?_ ”

 

Her face brightened and Yuuri just wanted to smoother her into his chest.

 

 _“You speak Japanese!”_ The exclamation was complete with a childish lisp. Hearing the familiar tones made Yuuri missed his family.

 

_“What is your name?”_

_“Fukui Misaki! I am four-years-old. I like flowers and my favourite colour is pink. My best friend is Tomo-chan and we go to school together…”_ There was no way to stop the girl as she started to talk about how she had a dog and she loved the dog very much.

 

 

 

 

 

“I’m starting to miss Misaki-chan,” Yuuri sighed as Viktor and he got ready for bed.

 

“Do you prefer me or cotton candy?” Viktor asked lightly. Yuuri paused in the midst of pulling back the blankets.

 

“Are you… Are you jealous? Of a four-year-old girl?” Viktor did not deign a reply.

 

Yuuri crawled to the other side of the bed where Viktor was and shoved his face right in front of Viktor’s.

 

“Are you jealous?”

 

If there was a trait that Yuuri wished he could glean off from Viktor, it would be the Russian’s courage to meet one’s eyes despite any situation. A light blush spread across Viktor’s high cheekbones, serving only to enhance the blueness of his eyes. Yuuri was slightly breathless from the intensity of Viktor’s eyes.

 

“And what if I was?” Viktor whispered.

 

“Then you could start wearing pink sweaters and strawberry printed leggings and pretend you can’t ice skate so that I can hold your hands as we made rounds around the rink,” Yuuri whispered back.

 

That planted a ridiculous image in Viktor’s mind that he gave a sharp bark of laughter. The atmosphere was broken by Viktor’s laughter.

 

“Yuuri, love. I don’t think I can even pretend to not know how to skate. I mean, how do you even fall from standing on ice?”

 

And Yuuri got what Viktor was trying to say. Ice skating came to them more naturally than running. There existed no conscious effort on their part to move on the ice, unless they were executing jumps.

 

“But you get to monopolise my time on the ice? And hold my hands.”

 

“Tempting. But I can cuddle you to death here on my bed, and I think this is much better.” Viktor wrapped his hands around Yuuri’s waist and flipped them over on the bed.

 

“Yes, this is much better,” Viktor sighed into Yuuri’s hair as Yuuri pressed even tighter against Viktor.

 

“Do you think we made any positive impacts with the young skaters today?” Yuuri asked, voice muffled against the russian’s chest.

 

“If positive impacts mean Seunggil going on his routine by himself with JJ trying his best to get the girls to understand his commentary, me impressing the boys with a triple axel, Yuri out-screeching his boy, Otabek allowing the girl to drool on his hair, and you attempting to get cotton candy to skate straight, I think we did a mighty fine job.”

 

“You are horrible,” Yuuri groused without heat. “Yuri did manage to get the boy to skate backwards rather well.”

 

“You mean Otabek allowing Yuri to allow the boy to skate backwards till he hit himself against the rink side?”

 

“Well, Otabek had a sleeping, drooling kid on his shoulders, and you chose that exact time to do a quad flip. I can’t blame Yuri for losing his sight of his boy for a second.”

“Aww, I would have thought that you would have been too enamoured with cotton candy to pay attention to me.”

 

“You are hard to ignore.”

 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

 

“If you wish.”

 

“Yuuri!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri’s and Viktor’s bedtime chat is so domesticated that I want to cry. They sounded like they’ve already married for twenty years.
> 
> Three more chapters to go and this little fic will be a wrap.


	18. To Hasetsu

Nothing can be heard from the ice rink except for the crisp cuts of the blades against the ice and the harsh breathing of the two ice skaters as they skated to the song. They were the epitome of perfection. The skating were in impeccable synchrony, every skate were excellently timed, hands up in the exact same angle. As the hands descended elegantly, the two skaters launched into a corkscrew sit spin in the same direction. The spins wind down slowly as they gradually straightened up. The two skaters ended up facing each other, before the taller skater cinched onto the slighter male’s waist and dipped him down. The music ended right at the moment Yuuri extended his free hand towards the ice.

 

Viktor righted Yuuri up and rested his hands heavily on his knees.

 

“Getting tired already?” Yuuri teased as he tried to regulate his breathing.

 

“I am hardly panting,” Viktor huffed. Yuuri nudged Viktor at the back of his knees and the Russian flopped uselessly onto the ice.

 

“Yuuri, I have you know that I, Viktor, Russia’s ice skating living legend, has never been treated with such disrespect before,” Viktor mock chided into the ice, as he laid prone on the ice, face down.

 

“I would have known that you would be the biggest baby in the world since you have the entire Russian ice skating team as your babysitters.”

 

Viktor opened his mouth to retort, but Yuuri’s phone rang loud and clear. The Japanese hurriedly skated to his phone and picked it up.

 

Viktor rolled onto his back. The stinging cold against his cranium was familiar and he was almost lulled into sleepy rest when Yuuri shouted. The panicked tone had Viktor on his skates and beside Yuuri in a flash. He rubbed soothingly against the small of Yuuri’s tensed back, the only comfort he could offer as Yuuri’s rushed Japanese flew over his head.

 

“My dad’s in the hospital,” Yuuri informed Viktor once he ended the call.

 

“Then we’ll just have to go,” Viktor replied without hesitation.

 

“But the show… And the charity gala…”  


“I am pretty sure the producers would love to follow us to Japan,” Viktor assured as he got his phone out, scrolling through his contacts.

 

“I don’t want to impose on others because of my selfish needs-“

 

“Are you trying to stop me from experiencing the therapeutic onsen your family has to offer so that you can gloat at it in my face when you return?” Viktor teased as he brought his phone to his ear.

 

“And don’t worry about the gala, I’m very sure it’s the week after,” Viktor continued when Yuuri did not look very convinced. He waved off Yuuri’s arguments as his call got through.

 

“Hey, I have a fantastic idea…” Viktor spoke as he exited the rink, leaving Yuuri to look after Viktor’s retreating figure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Twenty three hours later, Yuuri and Viktor stood at the exit of Hasetsu’s train station.

 

“Wow, Yuuri! Look at the all the posters around us! You are more famous than me!” Viktor gushed as he pranced around the spacious station, looking at each poster intently even though they were the same posters.

 

“Stop it, it’s embarrassing!” Yuuri whined as he hid his face behind his hands. “Come on, we need to get to the hospital.”

 

“Oh right, yes, hospital.” Viktor’s light mood turned serious. “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Viktor reassured, enveloping Yuuri into a one-hand hug.

 

 

 

 

 

 

They stood outside of Yuuri’s dad’s ward.

 

“Are you okay?” Viktor whispered. The filming crew was outside the hospital, not given permission to film inside.

 

Yuuri nodded his head firmly, and pushed open the door.

 

“What-“

 

Yuuri’s dad was resting comfortably on the bed, his right leg in a bandage. A plump woman was beside Yuuri’s dad, feeding him pieces of mandarin oranges while a lady with a bored face was flinging the mandarin orange peels towards Yuuri’s dad.

 

“Yuuri-kun!” The plump woman stood up, the mandarin peels falling onto the light blanket draped over Yuuri’s dad. She waddled hurriedly across the room, and wrapped Yuuri into a tight hug, unheeding towards Yuuri’s dad’s loud “Ooi” for the unwanted orange peels.

 

“ _Okaa-san_.” Yuuri greeted quietly but pulled the lady tighter against him. Viktor did not speak Japanese, but somehow he knew that the plump lady was Yuuri’s mother.

 

“Hello, Mrs Katsuki,” he greeted once the mother and son loosened their embrace.

 

“ _Vicchan! How nice to finally see you!I_ ” Yuuri’s mother turned her attention to Viktor and engulfed him into a similar hug. Viktor had to bend at his waist so that Yuuri’s mother could

pat him on the shoulders.

 

“ _Stop hogging Vicchan! I want to see him too!”_ Yuuri’s dad hollered from his bed and the lovely lady bodily dragged Viktor towards her husband. For a lady so small, Viktor was surprised at the amount of strength Yuuri’s mother had.

 

“Yuuri, a little translation help would be appreciated?” Viktor croaked from the bed. He somehow got situated on the bed beside Yuuri’s dad, who was speaking rapid Japanese to him while patting his hair.

 

“Oh, look at my manners. I am Katsuki Toshiya, Yuuri’s father. Nice to meet you,” the jovial man introduced.

 

“My family can speak a little English because there are many foreign tourists to our onsen,” Yuuri explained. He felt a little bit overwhelmed at how his dad was not actually that hurt, at how his family had welcomed Viktor so generously.

 

“I am Viktor Nikiforov, nice to meet you too,” Viktor returned Toshiya’s greetings earnestly. This was his lover’s dad, and he was damn sure that he would rake as many brownie points as possible with Yuuri’s family over his short stay there.

 

“I know, I know, Vicchan,” Toshiya cackled.

 

“Do you know me?” he asked.

 

“Of course. They have been looking at your face for years every time they enter-“

 

“ _Mari nee-chan!_ ” Viktor turned to look at Yuuri’s sister, only to find her mouth stuffed with a mandarin, juices flowing unattractively down her chin.

 

“ _You brat!_ ” Mari growled when she swallowed the fruit. She trapped Yuuri into her signature arm lock and rubbed her knuckles hard against her brother’s head.

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the end, Yuuri’s dad only had a sprained ankle no thanks to his infamous drunken bouts of dancing. They only gotten him to stay at the hospital for precautionary purposes.

 

“Looks like drunk dancing is hereditary in your family,” Viktor laughed as he sat beside Yuuri on the mini bus the filming crew had procured to bring them to the onsen.

 

“Huh?” But Viktor hushed him by sneaking a peck on his lips.

 

“Viktor, my mum’s here!”

 

“Don’t mind, don’t mind. I am a very open mother,” Hiroko crooned from the front of the bus. Hiroko was surprisingly comfortable with the numerous cameras shoved into her face while Mari had hidden herself at the back of the bus, scowling every time a camera got too close to her.

 

Both her parents welcomed the filming crew to their onsen. However, they were firm with regards to the filming area. They restricted the filming crew to only situate two cameras in one of their empty banquet room where the family would gather together for filming material.

 

“I like your mother.”

 

“She’s yours now,” Yuuri grumbled without heat.

 

“ _Okaa-san!_ ”

 

“ _Vicchan!_ ”

 

 

 

 

 

“Yuuri, your onsen is beautiful!” Viktor crooned once they gotten out of the mini bus.

 

The onsen might not boost the finest architecture, nor was it new. However, the Katsukis had maintained their property well and the slightly dilapidated outlook actually gave the onsen a more homely feel.

 

He followed obediently behind Yuuri, removing his shoes and placing them neatly at the side.

 

“Now, Yuuri, where is your room?” Viktor asked breezily and walked towards a narrow corridor. Yuuri tripped after him as Viktor walked past the paper sliding doors. He stopped when he was at the end of the corridor, facing the last sliding door. How Viktor knew where his room was was beyond Yuuri’s mind. Viktor had never been to his family’s onsen, and there were at least ten other doors before his.

 

Viktor gently slid the door open and the next moment he found himself kissing the wooden floor below him. In a desperate attempt to stop Viktor bulldozing into his room, he had pulled Viktor’s ankle away, hard. He scrambled frenziedly over Viktor’s fallen body and crawled into his room. The door shut loud behind him.

 

“Yuuri!”  


“Ten, no, twenty minutes. Give me twenty minutes,” Yuuri panted behind the door.

 

When Hiroko found Viktor sprawled on the floor in front of her son’s room, she said nothing but pat on Viktor’s muscled rump twice and went off.

 

 

 

 

Viktor laid his head on the table in the banquet room that was rigged with the cameras, moping. Yuuri had not allowed him into his room when the twenty-minute mark was up.

 

“Viktor.”

 

Viktor eyed Yuuri sideways, before turning away from him. And Viktor being Viktor, actually scooted pettily away from Yuuri.

 

Yuuri huffed, but remained in his seat. He had not been back for five years, and the nostalgia was threatening to overwhelm him. He laid down to rest on the tatami mat and inhaled the familiar scent of his family’s onsen. And another scent that was growing stronger. The doors slid open and Hiroko stepped in with a large tray.

 

Katsudon.

 

Viktor was already seated upright, beaming at Hiroko like the perfect angel he was in the public’s eyes. Yuuri knew better.

 

“Vicchan, this is Yuuri’s favourite food, Katsudon,” Hiroko explained as she pushed really huge looking bowls in front of Viktor and Yuuri.

 

Shouting a mangled “ _Itadakimasu_ ”, which earned a large wince from Mari, who had trotted in after Hiroko, and an extra large smile from Hiroko, Viktor dug into his meal with gusto.

 

“Vkusno!” Viktor gushed with his mouthful. There were bits of rice around his lips like a child, but his eyes were nothing but sincerity and adoration.

 

“Yuuri, it’s so good. So much better than yours!” Viktor continued. Of course, it would not be Viktor if he did not let bygones go. Yuuri ignored his petty boyfriend while he inhaled his katsudon with slightly more grace than Viktor.

 

Viktor was done with his bowl within minutes, even though Hiroko had made a portion larger than their usual serving size. However, he did not look satisfied yet.

 

“Yuuri, you are exceeding your daily carbs intake! Let me help you!” He said as he tried to spear a piece of pork from Yuuri’s bowl with his fork. (Bless Hiroko for providing him with a fork instead of chopsticks!)

 

Yuuri grabbed his bowl from the table and cradled it protectively against his chest and growled.

 

“Y-Yuuri, did you just growl at me?” Viktor retracted his fork, a wounded look on his face.

 

“Yuuri!” Hiroko sighed. Yuuri shoved the last mouthful of katsudon, rather regretfully, and slammed the bowl onto the table.

 

“I am going to make you burn this bowl tomorrow,” Viktor announced as he prodded Yuuri’s middle with a socked foot. Yuuri winced. Viktor had a killer training regime, and he really was not looking forward to tomorrow.  Especially since Makkachin was not with them. The lovely poodle had taken upon herself to be Yuuri’s running partner, which made running so much more enjoyable for Yuuri.

Viktor trotted sleepily after Yuuri once they were done with their meal. The day’s worth of flying was finally catching up on them and they were doing their utmost to keep their eyes open.

 

“Oh, you are really sleeping in the same room,” Hiroko mused as she followed them into the room, seeing if there were anything else Viktor needed to settle in. She hardly noticed the cameras set up around her son’s room.

 

“ _Okaasan_ ,” Yuuri whined.

 

“Hush, I thought once filming ends, you all will return to your own rooms.”

 

“ _Okaasan_ , filming never ends. And Yuuri’s too comfy to let go,” Viktor smiled, his eyes already half-closed from lethargy.

 

“Way to go, telling my mom how her son’s so squishy,” Yuuri pinched Viktor’s nose without any heat.

 

“Okay, I’ll leave you guys to be. Leave the door open,” Hiroko smiled as she left the room. However, her tone held no negotiations.

 

“ _Okaasan_ , I’m twenty-three, not thirteen,” Yuuri groused, embarrassed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

JJ laid on his bed, unfocused with two dogs cuddled against him. Not long after Viktor hurriedly pressed Makkachin to them, Seunggil announced that he had to return to Korea to shoot some promotional video for the 2018 Pyeongchang Olympics.

 

JJ wanted to tag along and Seunggil agreed only if JJ could sing the Korean national anthem perfectly. JJ of course took the challenge like a king. If Seunggil were honest, he would say that JJ was actually not bad seeing as he got the melody right. However, the lyrics were left to be desired and Seunggil thought he had heard his name, _oppa_ , and _saranghaeyo_ , which he was absolutely sure was not in his national anthem.

 

So he pressed a quick kiss to JJ’s lips and hurriedly left the apartment while JJ was still flummoxed over the kiss. When JJ returned to his senses, he found himself all alone in the apartment with dog-sitting duties.

 

He turned to his side to cuddle into Taepoong. But the husky simply stared at him in dismal before hopping off the bed.

 

“Taepoong!” JJ whined at the betrayal. “Whatever.”

 

He flipped to the other side and saw Makkachin laying her head on her paws.

 

“Makkachin, come to papa,” JJ cooed and the fluffy poodle settled her entire weight over JJ’s body. He buried his hands over the fur and rubbed. Makkachin purred. He was lulled into a half sleep when a wet nose burrowed into his neck.

 

“So now you want cuddles?” JJ deadpanned as Taepoong insistently pushed against his clavicle.

 

“Like owner, like dog.” But JJ pulled over the whining husky over anyway.

 

“I miss your papa too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiroko's such a joy to write. She thinks she's a modern and open mother, but yet she insisted Yuuri to leave his door open. AHAHAHA. No matter how old you are, you are always a baby in your mother's eyes. 
> 
> I like pining JJ. HAHAHA.


End file.
